Please see the first chapter for disclaimer and other info
A/N: Thanks to everyone who spotted the boo-boo last chapter. Err, I was just testing you all. Sure...Well anyway, it's fixed and I was kind enough to churn this out. And OT, everyone should go and see the latest HP movie pronto!
Chapter Three: The Disaster
Anakin knew that if he really wanted to get out of here, he would be able to. He was the Chosen One after all. After his spectacular display of husbandly love, the guards had unceremoniously thrown both him and Padmé into a cell. Padmé had thrown a few very unladylike words at the guards and also a few directed at him. Anakin never knew he married a woman who swore like a Hutt. "This is your fault," she stated as if she were about to argue in the Senate, throwing her hands up in frustration. "I had the situation under control and there you went, exploding things with the Force!"
Anakin lowered his head sheepishly and shrugged in response. "They were hurting you," he said in his defence.
Padmé indignantly placed her hands on her hips. "I am the Chancellor of the Republic! I had it under CONTROL until you had to show off your amazing Force abilities. Fancy blowing up a defenceless administration droid and knocking guards unconscious! Anakin Skywalker, do you realise we are now going to be on every Holonet channel in the galaxy? Once again, this is all YOUR FAULT!"
Anakin found himself utterly speechless. Padmé was mad. She was more than mad—she was furious, irate, enraged, fuming and livid all at once. If he didn't fear for his very life he would have found it extremely sexy. He put his head in his hands and wished he had actually used his brain for once.
Jedi acted on instinct.
Anakin Skywalker managed to make the noble Jedi art look ridiculous and foolish all at once.
"I'm sorry," he offered weakly as Padmé sighed and sat next to him, staring at the bars that held them captive. "If it's any consolation I could break us out of here at any time. But I am not going to. I am going to stay here and face the consequences."
Anakin was sure he heard Padmé snort but quickly dismissed the thought. Chancellors of the Republic did not snort...they elegantly allowed unwanted sound to escape through their nose. The K'Larna guards obviously believed their identities to be false. They had left them here over four standard hours ago, undoubtedly contacting the Republic to ascertain the Chancellor's whereabouts. He could tell them where she was—right next to him fidgeting.
And all because of one stupid document...
Remembering the reason for his anger, Anakin suddenly sat upright. "Padmé?" he asked laying a hand on his wife as she held her own head in her hands, resigned to her embarrassing fate with the Holonet.
No, it couldn't be possible. The droid was wrong, hence why it was blown into a million pieces.
"Could it be possible?" he asked timidly, not wanting Padmé to start screaming at him again. Instead of starting another fight, Padmé lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Instinctively he reached out and softly stroked the side of her face.
"I checked Anakin," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. "When we made our marriage public and I was voted the Chancellor, I had everything checked to make sure nobody could fault me—nobody could fault our family. How could I have missed this?"
He leant in and kissed her softly. Had he really been "living in sin" with the Chancellor of the Republic for twenty years—had their children really become nothing but a product of a sordid love affair? He wasn't sure that would sit well with either Luke or Leia. They had enough trouble accepting the fact their parents were still intimate, let alone were engaging in secret and illegal methods of marriage and reproduction.
"It doesn't matter," Anakin said pulling away from Padmé. "We will fix this." Padmé smiled and gently squeezed his hand, happy to find it was his real one. While she loved his bionic hand for all sorts of unmentionable reasons, there was nothing better than the feeling of flesh comforting flesh. It would be okay. If not, the Skywalker name would become Bantha fodder.
--
Luke rolled onto his side and crashed into a warm lump.
Mara.
Luke smiled to himself as he shifted in his bed and readjusted himself next to the sleeping mass of his red haired girlfriend. Luke had been astounded when Mara had accepted his invitation to Leia's wedding. With the commotion on Alderaan, Luke was surprised when she had arrived on time and even willingly met his father.
The great Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Master and Chosen One and striker of fear in many a potential in-law's heart. There was not much Anakin Skywalker could not do. However being sensitive and tactful when it came to his children's happiness was not one his finer points. Luke loved his parents; honestly, there were just a little...
Insane?
...overprotective.
Their family was too famous for his liking. Having a Chancellor for a mother, a Senator for a sister and a Jedi Master for a father meant he had a lot to live up to. He was confident he could do it—as long as the rest of the galaxy and the Holonet left them in peace. As his mind wandered over the infamy of the Skywalkers and the possibility of introducing Mara into the insanity, the loud and intrusive noise of his personal commlink erupted.
Groaning, he lifted himself out of the bed, careful not to wake his slumbering beast of a girlfriend. The hour was still early and very few people would ever contact him so early for fear of death. He grabbed the offending object and croakily answered, "Hello?"
He was welcomed with his twin sister's screeching voice. "Luke have you been watching the Holonet?" she screamed, her voice sharp enough to split a Rancor's ears.
"No Leia, I just woke up," he snapped, closing the door to his bedroom as not to wake Mara. "More reports on your lavish Alderaanian wedding?" he snickered and made his way to the Holonet access point.
"Hey kid—you better turn it on," Han's voice drifted out of the commlink. For both Han and Leia to be comming him so early in the morning, something had to be wrong. Frowning, he turned on the Holonet, accessing the first channel that came to view.
"Which channel?" he asked.
"All of them," was Leia's reply as the commlink cut out.
"Breaking News story. Coruscant Daily has just received reports of an arrest made on two individuals posing as Chancellor Padmé Skywalker and her husband Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker on the luxury resort planet of K'Larna. Reports claim the couple tried to override security with a fraudulent marriage certificate as identification. The couple landed using the Chancellor's Priority One code and reports also say the Skywalkers' personal ship, Coruscant Wings was docked at the planet's spaceport. The offending individuals put up a struggle and were apprehended almost five standard hours ago. Both the Jedi Temple and the Chancellor's office refused to comment...
Luke's eyes grew wide as he rushed to replay the message his mother had left for him.
"Luke honey, it's your mother. Your father and I have decided to take an impromptu vacation. If you or your sister needs us, we will be on K'Larna, the resort planet..."
Luke didn't need to hear anything else. It was blatantly obvious that the couple arrested on K'Larna were not Skywalker imposters. They were in fact his parents.
Kriff.
--
Twelve hours.
Anakin stared at the wall and wondered how many seconds it would take for him to cut through it with his lightsaber. Once again, Anakin thought about his beloved friend hidden away on the Coruscant Wings. If the guards had ransacked the ship and found the lightsaber, then perhaps they would finally believe that he really was Anakin Skywalker. It wasn't as if K'Larna was a backwater planet, much like Tatooine. They had high levels of security and up-to-date technology. How was it then, that they did not recognise his face? He had been on every Holonet channel as the poster boy for the Jedi—the Hero without Fear. Surely he hadn't aged past recognition? He was only fourty-three...ish.
Aside from their obvious lack of interest in anyone popular, how could they not realise his beautiful "pretend" wife was the Chancellor of the Republic?
And I thought I was stupid.
Padmé now sat across from him. She stared into space. Anakin knew the distant look. It was one of plotting and scheming. He had seen her plan out so many risky adventures, including their own secret wedding.
And look how that turned out.
A thought crossed his mind. Admittedly it was his fault they had ended up manhandled the way they were. But he distinctly remembered Padmé saying "I'll take care of it." The trusting nineteen year old Jedi padawan in him believed that Padmé could do no wrong. Now, twenty years of marriage told him something completely different. Padmé could do wrong and for once it really wasn't his fault.
"You said you would take care of it," Anakin blurted out, disrupting Padmé from her sinister politician plotting. She raised her eyebrow.
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Fighting stance. Attack.
"You said you would take care of it," he repeated, crossing his own arms.
Retaliation. Defence.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Padmé demanded, leaning forward.
Invitation. Bring it on.
"When we got married that's what you said to me. You said, 'I'll take care of it.'"
Game on.
"I organised the Holy Man! I filed all our paperwork, under a stressful veil of secrecy I may add, Anakin Skywalker," she snapped. She only used his full name when she was really irritated. "I took care of everything. It was because of me we even got married!" Padmé's face took on a shade of red. She was getting mad. There was a point of return at that moment in the argument. Anakin could either buckle under the fierce glare of the Chancellor of the Republic or he could stand his ground like a man.
Anakin Skywalker took the foolish option. Anakin Skywalker stood his ground like a man.
"Well Padmé NABERRIE," he said stressing her maiden name. He noticed her eyes glowed fiercely. For a brief moment, he could have sworn she was of the Dark Side. "It seems that the great politician stuffed up the paperwork and now, we're in jail because of it. I wouldn't exactly call that being taken care of would you?"
Padmé stood and walked over to Anakin, poking a finger into his chest. In retaliation he stood up, looming over her. "How DARE you blame me for this!" she screeched, her Chancellor demeanour gone. Anakin would have laughed at the shift from Padmé the Chancellor to Padmé the Crazy Wife would it not result in his impending death.
He looked defiantly down at her. Even with her shorter stature, he was sure to onlookers she still looked the most menacing out of the pair. "You blamed me simply for defending your honour! Had I let them manhandle you, you STILL would have blamed me!"
Padmé scoffed as she poked him again. Finding her poking irritating, Anakin poked her back in the arm. This was absurd—he didn't really want to fight her. But now that he was here, he had nothing to lose. There was no couch to sleep in a jail cell.
"Padmé Amidala Naberrie you are only angry because for once it IS YOUR FAULT and you can't blame this on one me!"
A loud booming voice interrupted their fight. They both turned to the source of the noise and found a guard standing at their cell.
"You have a visitor."