So, hello. This is something that's been whirling around in my brain for a while. I'm pretty notorious for writing on the fly, and I've never ventured to write a chaptered story for anything. I can't promise it'll be quick or on time, but I'm going to try to bang this out so my brain will stop poking at me to write it. :(
I'll go ahead and say that this story will have adult situations. I'm an adult, so I write like one. If you're offended by language or sexual situations, you should probably find the back button.
This story picks up right before the scene in RotS where Palpatine tells Anakin about the dark side in the opera house. That scene will NOT happen here, so everything in this story from that scene forward is AU. I've always wanted an alternate ending, and I guess if George Lucas won't give me one, I'll have to make one.
Before we begin, a brief shout out to Shawn30 for coming back to writing on this site. Definitely check out his stories if you are a fan of the Anakin/Padmé couple!
"The night is always darkest before dawn."
"I have to go. The Chancellor is waiting for me."
Palpatine; a subject of great disagreement between the two of them. The man reeked of a foul stench. He floated through the Senate with a dark cloud over his head. It was not hard for many people to look at Palpatine and see he was not the man her husband thought he was. She found it impossible to convince him otherwise.
Coruscant's night time traffic was a roaring storm around them. The press of noise was suffocating. Padmé often wished her sense of duty was not so strong.. that it did not bind her here to this city-planet, mired in loneliness and grief and heart-gripping worry. Normally, her husband's presence solved everything. He completed her world, took her away from the Senate and fulfilled her soul in a way she could never even dream of. This time, though, was horribly different. As she watched him go to his starfighter, her anxiety returned with a powerful vengeance.
He had refused to touch her. The first time, indeed, in the three years she had been married to him. His dreams crushed his spirit in a way the war never could. She saw the defeat in his eyes when he looked upon her at night, his fear so palpable she could reach out and feel it in the air. She would try to comfort him, but he would back away from her, in agony both at the pain in her eyes, and from the nightmare he had just awoken from. They had not seen one another for weeks upon weeks, and it still felt to Padmé that he was not with her. He was a world away.
Anakin punched his security code into the fighter's data pad, and as the cockpit slid open obediently, he looked back at his wife. The sight of her both lifted and crushed him. He couldn't begin to explain the depths of his love for this woman. Every time he turned his gaze to her, it only made him resolve to find a way out of their fate. The Jedi told him to let go. But how could he? How could he let go of the one thing in this Hell of a world that made it worth living? The dragon coiled tighter inside his chest, fanning the fires of his despair. This night with Palpatine would help. The man knew exactly what to say to sooth Anakin's fears, at least temporarily. He couldn't find that here with Padmé, and he knew his distance caused her a good deal of sadness. The way it had reflected in her eyes the night before.. he could not bring himself to that again.
So, as Anakin drifted from Padmé, further and further down a path husband and wife could not travel together, the night air shifted.
Padmé gazed at him, as he, too, looked upon her. She could not find words to say to him, even when his shoulders slumped and he turned to enter his starfighter. Her chest constricted suddenly with fear. It was overwhelming, causing her hands to shake, to grip the hem of her gown until her knuckles turned white with the strength of her grasp. An immediate, gripping refusal to allow him to leave accompanied the fear. If he left, everything would change. Nothing would ever be the same for the two of them. He seemed to pick up upon her fear, stiffening midstep, one boot on the yellow rim of his fighter, the other planted on the gray concrete of their apartment's dock. He was turning to her even before she whispered his name. The look in her eyes startled him. Padmé was crying. The tears in her eyes sparkled with the lights of Coruscant, and he could not help but see her grief eclipsed any she had suffered the night before. Conscious thought wasn't needed, he was drawn to her immediately. Anakin could no more ignore her call than he could stop breathing. He was in front of her before the last syllable of his name faded.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
His voice was muted against the thrumming in her ears. Padmé didn't quite understand this crushing fear she was experiencing. It had appeared out of no where, yet she couldn't set it aside. It only grew in caliber as he came to her, as he reached for her. The shock of his touch jolted her out of her paralyzation. Her body demanded she step into him, craved the instant his arms wrapped securely around her.
"Don't go."
"What?"
"Stay. Stay here with me."
Anakin pulled back to look at her, regretting it the moment her eyes showed him her pain again. It appalled him to even think of leaving her like this. But.. the Chancellor had expressly asked for his company tonight. He was stuck with a choice, a choice he hated to make. Always a choice. Never an easy one, either. He wished sorely to just disappear, for a hole to swallow his and his wife's existence, so they could live in peace. The dragon whispered in his ear, told him to apologize to the woman in his arms, to disengage from her and go anyway. To seek out the guidance of the only person who could send his problems away. She could not help him, it said. She only caused him grief, unending grief. The instant these thoughts entered his mind, the next instant they were gone. Padmé was everything to him, and more. His galaxy only moved because she inhabited it. How could he just leave her here crying? He was suddenly violently disgusted with himself for even thinking of it. He was belatedly aware of her fingers sliding shakily along his jaw.
"Are you alright?" He tilted his head into her touch, and she was reassured slightly.
"I have this horrible feeling.. if you leave," she paused, feeling silly for the irrational fear that was causing her to delay her husband. His expectant look reassured her to continue. "If you leave, something terrible will happen.. I'm not sure why, but I can hardly breathe when I think of you going away."
He eyed the buildings around them suspiciously. "Do you think someone is trying to harm you?"
"I.. I'm not sure," she felt him grip her tighter, instinctively putting himself between her and the thousands of windows looking upon them.
"I won't ever let anything happen to you, Padmé."
Even as he said the words, he was acutely aware that she had already had terrible things happen to her. He had shoved her away; both tonight and the nights before. His dreams had not allowed them to even fall back upon one another. The solace he found in her arms, in her body, no one could ever give him that. Yet, he had refused her. He wondered at himself now, when he knew the one person that sought to protect her wholly had already failed. He breathed a cleansing breath, trying to draw upon the quiet peace Obi-Wan had shown him during their meditations. The only person he should be concerned about was the woman in his arms. He backed her gently towards the glass doors. She still quivered with barely suppressed tears, but she complied and drew him back into the darkness of their apartment.
"I'm sorry, love. I know it's been incredibly stressful for you the past few days," she sighed, wishing the Jedi Council had not asked her husband to lie. "I'll be fine here, if you'd like to go."
It was a lie, and he saw it dancing in her eyes. She had never been a very good fibber, which was quite ironic considering her career. Anakin knew the moment he left her, she would break down in the privacy of their bedroom. Her sorrow would be found by him when he returned, her cheeks red even as she slept. She would be on his side of the bed, her own pillow wet with her tears. He knew she would hide her grief to spare him, to never let him have to see it. It was easy to look down upon her now, the powerful love surging through the fear as he held her against him. Her warmth was a balm for his pains, and he felt a fool for having denied them both.
"I would much rather make sure my wife was safe and secure than attend some boring opera," he did not bother mentioning Palpatine. He wasn't going for the opera in the first place. But, as he stood here with her, the watery smile that found itself on her lips was more emotionally rewarding than even his talks with the Chancellor. Palpatine would understand. He always did.
The dark molded around them, paying silent vigil, protecting them from prying eyes. Hiding away their love. Always in the dark, was their love. It burned with the power of a thousand suns, but the night smothered the light. However, as Padmé leaned against her husband, the light surged powerfully, fighting against the creeping shadows. The fire in his eyes, dead for many days, ignited as her skin brushed along his hands like silk.
"Kiss me," her words were quiet in his ear, her temple pressed against his neck.
His heart expanded, filling up with even more of her as she moved back to look up at him, her eyes the color of melting chocolate. The fear whispered briefly through his subconscious, reminding him that she was fragile. She needed to be protected in all ways, including from his lust. He could hurt her this way, with the animalistic passion that always defined their coupling. The softly rounded warmth of her belly pressed against his abdomen was a testament to his paranoia. He leaned down, avoiding her lips and her request, cuddling into her neck instead.
"I can't," he managed to say the words, but her quick intake of breath as he drug his nose up the faintly scented column of her throat did little to harden his resistance. In fact, it hardened something else. The familiar smell of her shampoo weaved through his senses, reminding him that this was where he wanted to be.
"Why not?"
Now, Anakin tried to do the right things. He could admit most of those things backfired horribly in his face most of the time. But how was he supposed to deny her when she asked questions like that? Her sultry voice didn't help. The way her lithe hands roamed over his muscles, either. He groaned something unintelligible when those hands anchored in his hair and tugged. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her skin, only to be met with the more problematic view of her gorgeous face. She was biting her bottom lip, and he had the irrational urge to be the one nibbling it instead.
"Don't you want me?"
Oh, hell. He could barely hear the part of his brain telling him no. All he could see was his wife, staring at him with a volatile mix of love and lust swimming in her eyes. Only for him. And, stars, it had been months.
Padmé tried very hard to suppress the huge grin that was trying to surface on her face. He looked so conflicted, caught between his conviction to protect her, and his need to take her. To prove to her that, yes, he wanted her. He struggled with himself, even as her hands slipped under his tunic and splayed over his ribs.
"I always want you. I want you even when I'm thousands of parsecs away, every second of my existence," he lost his train of thought when one of her hands drifted lower, towards his belt.
"Show me, Master Jedi."
It didn't even come on to his radar that he wasn't technically a master. He opened his mouth to respond, but Padmé apparently didn't want or need him to give her permission. Her clever fingers gripped him boldly through his pants, an open challenge reflecting in her eyes. Her body thrilled in all the right places as he growled lowly, his body quivering like a strung bow as she stroked him confidently. One moment, he had been prepared to concede to her request, to kiss her slowly, to be gentle with her to appease his nerves. The next moment, he was gripping her face, his lips crashing down upon her own as all thought fled and his mind hazed over with need. The last thing he recalled was that this woman filled the voids in his tattered soul.
Just like everything else in their marriage, his kiss was intense. It tiptoed the border of desperation, as if the time they had spent apart had finally, finally come to an end. He had come back to her now, in this moment, as his tongue tangled with hers, and his thumbs wiped the leftover wetness from her cheeks.
He had forgotten how easy it was to become utterly lost in her. He forgot everything that had plagued him, shredded the moment their lips met.
It was glorious, perfect peace.
He had also forgotten how wicked she was, her fingers dancing along his hardness. Their lips ripped apart at a particularly hard squeeze. She didn't have time to thrill at her victory, for he finally allowed himself to use his hands. They touched her reverently, caressingly. His eyes practically glowed, his chest near bursting with the awe of her. Always so soft and receptive, and only for him. Over her shoulders, down her arms went his hands, even as he leaned down once more, murmuring his love for her as her blood began to sing with the truth of it.
Padmé's breath caught as his hands molded to her breasts. Though she could feel the inferno underneath her skin, and doubtless he was feeling the same fires, she appreciated the softness of his touch as he explored her anew. Each time he came home, he was different; more hardened and world weary. Now, however, she was also different. Where he was hardened, she was impossibly softer. Anakin was still wrapping his head around the fact that she cradled life that they had created together. He took life, ended many, many souls. His wife had found another way to alleviate his guilt, by showing him that he was also capable of giving life.
Now, if only he was capable of preventing the loss of life. Hers. One more life he had taken in some way..
Padmé spoke before he could even begin to go down the dark path again, "It will be alright, Anakin."
And as he looked into her eyes, just for this moment he believed her.
They drifted back into their bedroom, trailed by a wake of unbelievable gratitude and peace. He laid her down on top of the sheets like she was made of porcelain. Her arms opened for him, the gentle smile on her face told him she accepted his qualms. But he would not lie and say he could stop now. He had felt the way she trembled earlier, not from fear, but from anticipation. So, he removed his boots and climbed on to the bed after her, sighing with contentment as her arms engulfed him. They remained that way for a few moments, her fingers stroking through his hair. The fire licked up once more, quick and urgent. His lips ghosted over her cheek, her hands suddenly locked around his nape. The ebb and flow of desire was briefly unsynchronized between them, and he grinned against her skin when she made a noise of impatience.
His teasing, so unlike him in bed, warmed her soul. That he could find it in himself to be able to hold her after his crippling dreams told her everything he could not in words. That didn't mean she could tolerate the whimsical little kisses he was pressing against her cheeks for long, though. Padmé was acutely aware that they had been apart for far too long. Her husband seemed to be remembering this too, for his left hand had taken to wandering down her body. The tone changed the moment his hand gripped her thigh. The shared feeling of impatience brought his lips into hers, the kiss a searing reminder of their feelings.
There was nothing, like the one before, gentle in this kiss. He dominated her thoroughly, the sensations tilting her hips up until she cradled his lower body between them. Even as he caught her lower lip between his teeth, he ground down into her core. It always amazed him how the simplest things about her could feel so incredible..
They vaguely became aware of an incessant buzzing. It was slow to pull Anakin away from her lips, and the confused look on her face mirrored his own. Finally, she glanced down their bodies.
"It's your communicator."
Indeed, its muffled complaining came from inside his pocket, and he reached down to pull it out. The outside world threatened this pocket of serenity, and Anakin had the abrupt urge to just toss the thing off of their balcony. Before the sadness of parting could anchor on her face, he punched a button on the side of the tiny little thing, and it quieted immediately. Whoever was calling after him could wait. They were far below the needs of his wife. Padmé would usually chime in here, about duty. What if Obi-Wan needed him; what if they had a new mission? What if they came looking for him? However, she only breathed a sigh of relief, the radiance of her smile almost blinding him.
"No one matters to me more than you," he traced her lips with his own for emphasis. "They can wait until later."
Perfect, complete agreement. Their passion reignited like nothing had interrupted, that tiny spark so easy to coax back into a bonfire.
He was starving for more of her, an edge of frenzy in the way he held her. The hand that had been on her thigh found its way back, pushing the material of her gown higher up her legs. The way he kissed her now was sweet agony, coupled alongside the feeling of his fingers sliding briefly along her mound and up over her belly. He pushed her dress up and up, until finally it left her body, and he threw it down to the floor. Padmé seemed a little shy of herself. She watched his face as he looked at her, and he looked staggered. He didn't seem to notice she was waiting for his reaction, he could only stare at the beauty of her. Always beautiful. Their eyes met then, and he realized she was afraid of what he might think of her. The idea of being repulsed by her was so utterly absurd, and he smiled tenderly down at the way she bit her lip.
"You are so heart breakingly gorgeous," his hand caressed her cheek, pink with both need and embarrassment. There were no words more true than those. He hung to them, as he did to all things that were undeniable fact.
Now, Anakin was a man of action. He would rather take the necessary steps than wait around to confirm it was a good idea. He decided to show Padmé exactly how beautiful she was; exactly how desirable and sexy. If only he could let her see through his own eyes.
But, Padmé had no trouble seeing the truth in his eyes, and she loved him impossibly more for it. What would they ever do without one another? Simply put, they wouldn't. There would be nothing in this world worth living for in the absence of the other.
He took her lips again, his touches feverish and quick. She could only tilt her head back and accept what he offered her; his lips found the delicacy of her throat, paying it the same reverent attention he had to her lips. Her choked cry as he drug his tongue down the length of it nearly undid him right then. It had been too long since he had heard the sweet sounds of her pleasure. Tonight would be all about his wife, just as the night he had come back should have been about her. The news of her pregnancy, the Senate briefing, and the Jedi Council meeting had seen their time evaporate, and she was asleep by the time he finally made it back home. He had been unwilling to wake her. After all, there was always tomorrow.
There was always right now.
Her small hands gripped his shoulders as he drifted down her body, tasting her skin and reveling in just being pressed against her glorious body once more. Said glorious body was doing delicious things to his concentration. She moved against him like water, pliant and sinuous, the pressure of her seeking hips against his own numbing his mind. He reached her chest, and her breath caught there in anticipation. She waited as his devilish tongue traversed the expanse of her left breast, and he paused to look up at her once, a question lingering in his eyes.
"Ani, please.."
It was all the permission he needed. His lips closed around her nipple, and the sound she made was music. His tongue swirled around it confidently, the suction lifting her body to press even closer to his own. Her fingers buried themselves into his hair, and he was unsure how long he could remain halfway between her sex and her lips the more she made those soft, whimpering cries. It had been so, so long.. Padmé seemed to agree with him, for her upper body suddenly curled upward, forcing him to lift his head. She met him as he rose, connecting with those lips that gave her so much. He pushed her back flush to the bed, feeling her hands moving even as her mouth battled with his own. They gripped his belt, his lightsaber bumping against her as she worked the clasps open. The belt came away, and rather than throw it like her gown, she shoved it sideways on the bed beside them. A grim reality, but a needed one. The weapon was always close, guarding them without prejudice.
They broke away for a moment, he panting warmly against her cheek as she worked his tunic up and over his head. It joined her clothing already on the floor. Anakin himself gripped the hem of his undershirt, ripping it upwards and off. She was instantly touching him, sliding her hands over the hard planes of his muscles. The marveling way she looked down at him brought yet another smile to his face, allowing her a moment to get her fill, before she inevitably moved her hands even lower. His body went taut, and he stared into her eyes as she gripped his length, her small fist applying just the right amount of pressure. He dropped his head to her shoulder with a groan, wincing to keep from exploding. She had barely even begun to touch him, and he already felt like he was going to burst all over her hand. Not good.
Padmé smiled devilishly against his skin, oh so slowly working her hand up his hardness. She could feel the barely there shivering as she did so, and he was fighting to keep himself still. Fighting to not snatch her hand away from him and teach her a very delicious lesson about what he could do with what she held.
"I know exactly what it can do."
Anakin jerked his head up in surprise, watching her face light up with wonder. The Force was a very mysterious thing, as evidenced by the pure, unshakeable connection they always had. Sometimes, it was like she was him, and he was Padmé. The mutual pleasure that sang up their nerves as she stroked him would probably baffle all of the masters that occupied the council. They would never know the joy of being loved like Padmé loved him. It comforted him, took the edge off of his anger at them.
"Let me confirm your memory," she shivered under him at his words.
Even as she continued to wrench pleasure out of him with her hand, his own flesh hand dipped into the cleft of her sex. She was drenched already, her slickness covering his fingers. She cried out against him when he put pressure over her clit, stroking and stroking as her voice ramped up in volume. Her own torture stalled, and he claimed sweet victory over her when she could do nothing but withdraw her hand and hold on to his biceps. It was incredible how her voice made him feel, as if the sound of her noises was physically wrapping around his cock and pulling. The faster he moved his fingers, the more amped she became. His name escaped her with a breathy moan each time she drew breath. Anakin wondered once more how he left her. How he managed to fight in this never ending war, away from his wife for months on end. Away from the life giving nature of her existence. As she came apart beneath him, he resolved: never again. He would convince her this time, he would ask her to leave this dreadful place and this horrible war.
Padmé lay panting beneath her husband, feeling much the same. Why did they torment themselves this way? Though she would never admit it out loud, she was as close to wanting to pack up and leave for Naboo as he was. Could she live with herself if she did? Her husband would be with her every single moment of the day. They could hold one another in public with no qualms.
As he lifted his eyes to her own and kissed her forehead, his fingers still egging aftershocks from her orgasm, she knew the answer was yes. But, she could not ask him to leave all that he loved. It was impossible; she had seen what Jedi mastery meant to him earlier today. Right now, though, all that was on his mind was her, the back of his hand lovingly sliding against her cheek.
"Are you sure this won't hurt you?"
Padmé smiled and shook her head.
"I've already asked the medical bot about this-"
"Have you now? It sounds to me like you wanted to be prepared," the boyish grin on his face caused her to laugh.
"You know how hard it is to resist you, Master Jedi."
Anakin snorted, knowing it to be true, but also knowing that he was powerless against her, as well.
"It is very hard, isn't it?"
Padmé gasped when he turned her words against her, grinding his clothed hardness down on to her still sensitive clit. The pants had to go. Anakin thought this at the same moment. He kissed her, hard and brief, then shoved himself up on to his feet. She leaned up on her elbows to watch, their eyes locked as his fingers unbuttoned his pants. Padmé broke eye contact to watch him reveal himself with a hungry stare. His heart almost stopped when the last shred of his clothes hit the floor, and her expression lifted back to his face. The sheer lust in her eyes hit him squarely in the gut.
It took him less time to cover her body again than it took for her to draw another breath. The frenzy was back. His body demanded he be inside of her that instant, it was starving to feel her again. He was like a man caught out in the desert with no water. He thirsted for Padmé, and she for him.
"Don't make us wait anymore."
He nodded as his lips locked with her own, one hand holding himself above her, the other grasping himself to align with her hips. The initial shock of contact jerked them both, and he was suspiciously aware that this tryst would not last very long. The night was long, however, and he intended to take her until his thirst was quenched. He was already in heaven as the head broke into her. Her body engulfed him, craving the fullness he offered her. More and more of him disappeared into her, until his lower belly touched her own. He was afraid to move, she was so incredibly tight around him.
"You feel so damn good," he said huskily into her ear, unable to control the growl in his voice. She responded with a gasping cry, and he could not help himself. He pulled out the slightest bit, and shoved back into her, only to hear her make that noise again.
"Anakin!"
She knew exactly how to set him off.
One hand gripped his hair, his face buried in the crook of her neck, the other gripped his back for support. She felt his muscles moving beneath his skin, as graceful in intimacy as he was in battle. He would slide out of her almost entirely, and then he would surge back into her with a twisting motion of his hips. It impacted all of the spots inside of her that made her nails bite into him. And he loved it.
The longer he spent inside of her, the more erratic his pace became. This first time together was quick and urgent. Their mutual loneliness was slowly eradicated with each thrust. It was borderline euphoria; a symphony of their love. His name became a repeated mantra, jerked from her lungs each time his length filled her to the brim, impacting with every hidden spot her body tried to keep secret. Anakin could hardly draw breath from the exquisiteness of it, yet still, even here, a sliver of fear found itself manifested. He couldn't help himself, even as her body drew such tortured pleasure from him. Soon, he might not have Padmé. Soon, he might never be able to share himself with her again.
"Even the stars burn out," it was a whisper of dread against her neck. Padmé, in between the delirium, somehow managed to hold him even tighter.
"If I had the lifetime of one star, even a billion years would not be enough time with you, my love."
"Oh, Padmé." She felt the wetness against her neck, as he finally let out an inkling of his sorrow, never stopping the motion of his body inside of her own. Yet, even as the evidence of his turmoil remained on her skin, he lifted his face. There was no sadness there now. There was only an undying love. The kind of love that could move stars and planets with its power.
"I love you so much, Padmé. I could never, ever live a life without you in it," he leaned down again, as if someone could overhear his words, "I miss you so much, sometimes even with you here. Like my mind already knows I'll have to leave you again.."
"I know, Ani. Gods, I know."
Her understanding choked her name out from the depths of his soul. The intensity of his feelings brought him so close to the brink of orgasm, he could only desperately hope Padmé was close. He could barely manage to brave the slick, wet heat of her again and again. He was moving one hand down between them to bring her closer, when her piercing cry reached his ears. Her sex clamped down around him like a vice, milking such pleasure from his body, he couldn't see straight. Her nails down his back added to the sensory overload, wrenching a groan from the pit of his stomach. It was impossible for him to hold back, and a few more jagged thrusts sealed his pleasure and sent it soaring.
Padmé felt him slam so deeply into her, her throat clogged with the sensation. This was exactly where she wanted him, in her arms, his muffled cry against her throat in her ears. The warmth of his ejaculation sent her body to tingling. Each time he drew breath, he moved imperceptibly inside of her, and it caused her body to clench around him with the last few onslaughts of pleasure.
He slumped down beside her after pulling gently from her body's clutches. She turned on her side to face him, and he drew her closer as she sighed with contentment. He smiled with his eyes closed, running his hand up and down her arm. It was a blessing to be able to lay her beside her, untroubled. His mind was clear, occupied entirely with her, loving every moment he was gifted with her.
Padmé watched his face, the crippling emotions indecipherable from one another. All she knew, was this man deserved all of the love in the galaxy. He was so selfless, always giving to everyone, and never asking much in return. She had no love for Palpatine, yet the Jedi had asked a great deal of her husband to report on the Chancellor's doings. It baffled her that the Jedi even thought Anakin capable of lying through his teeth if the Chancellor so happened to ask. She remembered the times he had asked her to run away from it all, and was saddened by the fact that he no longer bothered to mention doing it. Oh, how she wished he would. Her patience ran thin with the Senate, always simpering over Palpatine like a jealous lover. And with Anakin's horrible, horrible dreams lately, she wished desperately for help from the Jedi themselves. Master Yoda could help her husband much more if he knew the depth of the dream. Anakin had told her briefly when he had come home yesterday that he had spoken to his master, and that it had not been what he wanted to hear.
The longer Anakin went, the more pain and anxiety was heaped upon his shoulders. She saw it more and more as the hours passed. There were smudges under his eyes that said he did not sleep. It broke her heart to see him this way. Abruptly, she wanted their marriage to be known. Not to the public, but to the Jedi. Anakin couldn't continue on this way forever, and she was untrusting of Palpatine, whom she suspected was whispering things in her husband's ear again. It was easy, in the face of her husband's misery, to put him above duty now.
"Anakin?"
"Mmm?"
He seemed to have dozed off, his voice gravelly from both sex and sleepiness. She moved her hand to stroke his face, smiling as he rubbed against her palm. She hated to wake him up with what she was about to propose.
"Anakin, I want-" her voice trailed off here, and he opened his eyes to regard her. "I want the Jedi to know. I want to tell Obi-Wan."
A deep, expectant quiet fell over the room. He seemed to have frozen, searching her face for a reason. Padmé was acutely aware of his reaction before, the deep suspicion he had shown when she had mentioned Obi-Wan. Now, however, he said nothing. His eyes dropped from hers, staring instead at the duvet below them. Padmé remained silent, waiting for the inevitable reaction, good or bad.
"The Jedi already don't trust me."
His voice was so muted, she barely understood what he had said.
"Anakin, any Jedi would trust you with everything in battle."
"Yes, in battle. But in anything else, they do not. You're not in the council chambers, Padmé. They look at me and see a problem, not a Jedi worth the seat."
His sigh was heavy, and Padmé was sorry to have pained him with this once more. Gone, though, was his customary anger when talking about the Jedi and his recent "promotion". She took courage from that. She continued to stroke his cheek, and he did not pull away from her. He seemed to be in thought.
"You are worth so much more, Anakin. To me, and to Obi-Wan," she knew somewhere in her husband, he valued his friendship with his master just as much as with Palpatine. "He could help us. With.. with your dream."
Anakin knew this, inherently. Obi-Wan offered a whole different kind of guidance from the Chancellor. A stern, no nonsense type of guidance. Yet, he had known Obi-Wan for the majority of his life, and the man had been everything from a friend to a father. Anakin knew, just like he knew he had Padmé's love, that he had Obi-Wan's, too. The more he thought about his reaction the previous day, the jealousy of Obi-Wan's visits with his wife, the more ashamed he felt. There was no Jedi more loyal to the code than Obi-Wan.
A great breath escaped him, and when Padmé pressed her forehead to his, he knew he could not deny her.
"Alright. We can tell him."
He would remember the relieved smile she wore for many days to come.
The night was truly never quiet here. Coruscant offered little in that regard. Padmé slept obliviously beside him, cuddled up against his side. Even here, he could just catch the noise if the traffic. He was so unbearably tired, it was hard to deny his body's need to sleep. The sexual high persisted even now, his spirit so refreshed, he detested the thought of drifting off into the nightmarish world of his dreams.
A light beside him suddenly lit the room, and he found his little communicator on the bedside table.
Anakin sighed and reached for it, slipping quietly out from under the sheets. He bent down and kissed his beloved's cheek, taking one long last look at her before he moved from their bedroom. He passed R2 by the door, the little droid doing his version of snoozing. He vaguely recalled R2 still on the wing of his fighter, before he had tried to leave. He felt bad for forgetting him, yet the astromech apparently was not concerned, and had not waited to be told he could disembark. Anakin was eternally grateful R2 had been "given" to him. That only endeared him to the little droid even more.
As he walked by, R2 woke with a quiet beep.
"No, no, R2. I'm not leaving. You can go back to sleep," Anakin grinned when R2 whirred out an approving noise. Always so opinionated, R2 liked Padmé a great deal, and the droid apparently also knew what was best for his master. R2 was happy for the respite, both for himself and his master, when they returned home.
The communicator lit again, and Anakin hurried out to the balcony to answer its light.
"Yes?"
"I was quite disappointed to not see you tonight."
Palpatine. Anakin sighed, and he wasn't so sure he even wanted to be talking to the Chancellor. Normally, he would have told Palpatine everything. He would have told him about the decision he and Padmé had arrived at earlier. Yet.. something about Palpatine and the way he regarded the Jedi, including Obi-Wan, kept Anakin tight lipped. He was eerily reminded of the incident on Grievous's ship, where Palpatine had told him to abandon his master. Anakin had not liked the Chancellor very much at that moment.
"My apologies, but something came up."
"Indeed? With the Jedi?"
"No. With Padmé."
Palpatine remained quiet for a few moments.
"I see."
Was that disapproval? Anakin stared down at his feet, suddenly uncomfortable. Why did he find it hard to talk to the Chancellor? The man had always, always been there for him. But now..
"I am sorry to have inconvenienced you in any way, Chancellor. But her needs were urgent."
"I'm sure they were, Anakin."
Anakin had the distinct feeling that Palpatine was not in agreement. What he did with his wife was their business, and Anakin felt a slight sting of anger to be looked down upon for it. His evening with Padmé had done wonders for both of them. He felt like he could breathe again, for the moment. He was belatedly aware that Palpatine was speaking again.
"-unfortunate, but not a problem. There's plenty of time to catch other shows, of course. Please do not concern yourself with it any more. I will inquire of you tomorrow."
"Yes, sir."
"Good night, Anakin."
The communicator beeped and shut off on its own, the call terminated.
Anakin wasn't sure what to think at that moment. The Chancellor had always been very accepting of the relationship he shared with Padmé. To think the older man would be put out for his absence because of her was unrealistic of him. Palpatine was well aware of the depth of Anakin's love for his wife. Maybe the meeting tonight had been important? Perhaps the Chancellor had wanted to tell him something?
On that note, his communicator lit up again. He stared down at it in exasperation. When had he gotten so popular? There was very few people who had his personal frequency, so he pressed the button one more.
"Yes?"
"Anakin. Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you for well over two hours."
His master's voice, a direct opposite to Palpatine, sounded patiently amused.
"Sorry, master, but I got caught up in other business."
"Other business? Really? Why don't you ever take me along for your nightly fun outside of the temple? Do you think I like being cooped up in here all the time?"
Anakin laughed, not responding. He very well couldn't bring Obi-Wan to his "fun". Though, he reflected, perhaps once Obi-Wan knew, he could visit. Certainly. Anakin felt a little better at that, though not by much. Letting any other person in on his and Padmé's secret frightened him. The last thing he wanted was for the Jedi council to ruin Padmé's work. She loved being a Senator. How could he take that from her?
Obi-Wan continued. "Well, the reason I'm after you is the council received word from the Chancellor's office tonight. Apparently, General Grievous has been tracked to Utapau. We believe he is attempting to hide there until the Separatist fleet can regroup."
Anakin was instantly aware that if they found Grievous and killed him, the war would virtually be over.
"Has the council decided on any action?"
"They've asked for a meeting tomorrow afternoon, to discuss what we should do. The Chancellor hinted at nominating you to go, and I'm sure the two of us could weed out Grievous quite easily. He will be virtually alone."
Anakin agreed with this conclusion, yet he wasn't sure how he felt about leaving Padmé here on Coruscant. He had already been separated from her for months on end, and he didn't particularly like the thought of tearing himself from her after his dream. He wanted to be around if something happened. That reminded him, "Master.."
"Yes, Anakin?"
On the other side of the communicator, Obi-Wan heard the deep breath his former padawan took. He waited patiently for what Anakin wanted to ask. Patience was key with Anakin.
"I was wondering if perhaps you and I could take the morning tomorrow. I have something I'd like to speak to you about."
"And this something cannot be discussed now?"
Anakin shook his head, and then remembered that Obi-Wan could not see him do so.
"No, master."
"Alright, then. I'll meet you in the temple. Force knows I have nothing else to do with myself like you do, yes?"
Anakin snorted, knowing full well that Obi-Wan was not above the occasional foray out into Coruscant's bar scene.
"That would be great. Thank you, master."
"Of course. Good night, Anakin."
"Good night, master."
The line went dead, and a tiny sense of dread entered Anakin's mind. He was caught between fear of tomorrow, and a sense of gratitude for the easy way Obi-Wan had spoken to him. A direct opposite to Palpatine. It was odd. Normally, Obi-Wan was the person that bottomed Anakin's spirits. He knew his master wasn't stern and unreachable on purpose. Hell, Obi-Wan probably didn't even notice it half the time. Yet, his master was always ready with a comforting word when he sensed Anakin's distress. He had talked with Obi-Wan on the bridges of many Republic cruisers at night when his heart was so empty and he could not sleep.
The business with Utapau must have been what Palpatine had wanted to tell him. Though why the Chancellor had not just outright said it during their brief call eluded him.
A great sense of exhaustion fell over Anakin, and he tucked the communicator back into his pocket and headed inside. As the glass closed behind him, shutting out the traffic, he couldn't find it in himself to be worried about Obi-Wan's reaction. He was weary. Tired of fighting two sides of the same coin. The Jedi and Palpatine were both part of the Republic. For them to be tooth and nail with one another put him in a situation that was not easy. But, for tonight, he would forget they existed and enjoy the warmth of his wife.
Their bed came into view as he entered the room. His eyes settled lovingly on the woman occupying half of it, her body a muted blue silhouette under the covers. Oh, yes, he could remain rooted here forever and be perfectly happy. She had other ideas, apparently, for she stirred and found him at the foot of the bed.
"Ani?"
Her fear of him having to leave again reached him through the Force.
"It's alright, Angel. I just had to answer a few calls," she nodded as he slipped back into bed beside her. He immediately drew close, gathering her hands in his own. "I spoke to Obi-Wan."
"What did he say?"
"He just wanted to tell me about a new piece of information. Grievous has been found in the Outer Rim. The council will meet tomorrow to decide what to do about him."
Padmé nodded, and sensed that he had something else to tell her. He paused, and then finally, "I will speak to Obi-Wan in the morning. I want you to be there when he is told. I'll bring him here."
Padmé said nothing, wondering if this was indeed the right decision. Instead, she nodded, sliding her thumbs gently over his knuckles.
"Thank you, Anakin."
And as the night drifted past, both husband and wife fell into a blessedly quiet sleep. The air, however, crackled with invisible energy. The calm before the gales arrived.
So, I DO intend to continue this story with chapters. Again, I can't promise frequent updates, but I'll try!
Thank you very much for reading.