Disclaimer: You all know, but still, I don't own Star Wars.
A/N: At first, I'm so sorry for the late update. I'm neck deep in my exams. So, the past days were insanely busy and I didn't have a time for writing and updating.
I'm so happy that you like this story. Like, when I posted this I never imagined that so many people would read it. I'm astonished to be honest.
Colliding Neon Stars: I'm glad that you're back in SW fandom *opens arms for a hug* Also, every reader's opinion is important for me. So, don't be shy, tell me what you think.
One guest asked if I was on Tumblr (Instagram; Twitter). Well, yes, you can find me on Tumblr ( ), but I don't use it often, since I don't have a lot of free time (kriffing University). So, trust me people, when I have free time, I'm writing this story. If you want to ask me something, just PM me, since I'm often on ffnet with my phone. So, I'll always read and answer your emails.
Aaand I'm happy that you all like my Padmé and Anakin. I'm trying to give them reasonable personalities. Like, yes, of course Anidala will happen, but not yet, because if Padmé is more forward in their relationship, Anakin will be more wary (he isn't in love with Padmé since age nine, so Padme will need more than her pretty face to put her spell on him).
The sun was hitting his back just right and she could see the hard planes of muscles of his back. For a few minutes she just stood and watched how his taut muscles flexed as he tinkered with Artoo. The Heiress observed how his pink scars reflected the sunlight, glistening and shimmering like soft ribbons of the finest silk. Padme decided that even his scars were perfect.
Her father would probably fume and shatter and bend every piece of glass and metal in his cabinet, if he knew that his daughter was doing nothing to break his prisoner's spirit. Padmé liked the unyielding strength in his cerulean eyes, that reflected the wildfire of his very soul. This fire could rival the melting lava of Mustafar and roast anyone alive, but Padmé wasn't afraid. She welcomed its burning heat with open arms, since only this fire could reach into her frozen core and warm it up.
Padmé shifted and cleared her throat. Her eyes flickered in satisfaction as she noticed how her charge's marred back stiffened and straightened. His head slowly turned and stormy blue eyes locked into cinnamon brown ones. She could see his disgust in them. It was kind of funny, the Heiress mused, how much anger this Jedi possessed and still claimed himself as the warrior of light side and defender of the peace in the galaxy.
His icy blue irises didn't leave her eyes and Padmé felt how the disappointment coiled in her stomach. She mentally kicked herself. Of course, he wouldn't be seduced by her backless dress, he was a Jedi for the Force's sake and he was raised by Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi nonetheless, the embodiment of virginity and pureness.
And of course, don't forget that he was the leader of rebellion. There were plenty of pretty women. Of course, he wouldn't take her seriously. Even if his eyes swiftly traveled from her eyes to her bare arms and collarbones, she knew that he wasn't truly attracted to her.
Well, his loss.
And his loss or not, Her Majesty Padmé Palpatine was anything but quitter. If she needed to achieve his trust at first for seducing him, she would do everything for that.
Skywalker rose from his crouching position and stepped toward her. Now, since they were standing toe to toe, she could fully appreciate his eyes and decide that footages of holonews didn't do justice to them. In the holowid they always appeared plain blue, but now she could see a whole myriad of colors – icy blue, deep ocean blue, steamy grey with luminous blue flecks and azure rings around the irises. They reminded her whirlpools in the stormy weather like in the stories her nanny told her while she lived in orphanage.
Skywalker leaned forward and scowled at her.
"So, what are you doing here, are you afraid that I will leave this pretty little chamber?" He sneered at her. "Don't worry. I'm stuck here, you can thank this shiny thing." He pointed at his collar and Padmé rolled her eyes. For the fearless leader and the Messiah of Jedi, he as sure as Sith's hell was quite a drama queen.
She crossed her hands across her chest and pursed her lips.
"What are you doing with my droid?"
"His few wires were loosened and I tried to fix them." Skywalker answered, turned around and crouched in front of Artoo again. Padmé decided that she liked how his back glistened deliciously on the faint sunlight. The woman allowed her eyes to roam again on his dark blond locks and bare back (again, why was he shirtless? Wasn't his wounds already healed?) and felt how a wide smile stretched on her face. Anakin was oblivious of her gaze as he commented "You don't need to thank me."
The smile vanished from her face and Padmé scowled again. Did this man have a single bone in his body that wasn't arrogant?
"I will thank you when Mustafar freezes," she snapped at him and dropped her hands. 'Remember about the trust thing,' she reminded herself. "Listen, I didn't come here to pick a fight with you."
He didn't even spare her a glance as he screwed a bolt into her droid.
"Then why are you here?"
Padmé clasped her hands and sat down on his bed. It was untouched, she noticed. He didn't sleep at night in the bed, Padmé realized and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why he chose the floor (since there wasn't couch or any furniture that could be useful for sleeping. In Skywalker's bedchamber were only bed, a few chairs and a holowid. 'He needs to watch how his precious rebellion fails,' her father declared gleefully) over his bad?
"I came here to talk to you." She answered.
Skywalker turned his hand to see her expression as he narrowed his eyes.
"Why you want to talk to me?" He asked nonchalantly.
Padmé leaned forward and gave him her most charming smile that could disarm thousands of idiots, who called themselves Senators. She mentally groaned as her prey met her smile with one doubtfully raised eyebrow. Damn Jedi and their kriffing code. If Skywalker wasn't raised to stay as pure as a virgin snow, her smile would have a tiny effect, at least.
"To know you better," she explained. "I want to know why you fight against us."
Skywalker turned his head again and resumed tinkering with Artoo. Padmé huffed. Did this man know that it's impolite when someone talks to you and you won't acknowledge their presence?
He shrugged.
"Well, you know, there's a small, tiny thing, name's Freedom. Many fight for it."
"Everyone in the Empire is free." Padmé argued. "We outlawed slavery."
Skywalker snorted.
"Tell that the population of Tatooine."
The Heiress narrowed her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
Anakin exhaled and stopped working. His hands dropped as he turned around to look at his companion.
"You outlawed the slavery in papers, but in reality you changed nothing. In the Outer Rim it is still alive."
Padmé arched an eyebrow.
"So? This is why you're fighting against us? To free the slaves from their patrons?"
"I fight against you, because you're so blinded by your power that you fail to see what you are doing to the galaxy." He explained plainly. "Everyone is your slave, in one way or another. Is my, as Jedi's duty to fight for the peace and freedom of the galaxy."
The woman scoffed.
"Typical Jedi nonsense." She leaned forward and gave him another of her charming smiles. "Why are you one of them?"
"I told you..."
"Not that." Padmé cut him off. "Why are fighting on the light side? The dark side of the Force is much stronger."
One blond eyebrow rose.
"Why you think so?"
"Father taught me." Padmé defended herself.
Skywalker chuckled and Padmé let herself to bask in the warmth of his laughter, even though she knew that he was laughing and probably mocking her naivety.
"The dark side isn't stronger than the light side." He told her. "It's just easier path. In the heat of the battle, it's much easier to channel your anger and aggression than call up your inner peace and compassion. But in the end, your anger and hatred will consume you."
Padmé shrugged.
"Don't know. The Force is the Force with its dark and light sides. You shouldn't ignore either."
Skywalker's mouth twitched and curled into small smirk.
"Did your father teach you that?"
The Heiress reddened.
"It's my opinion."
Anakin shrugged at her answer and turn his back to her, resuming cutting and joining of her droid's wires. Padmé huffed. What the hell was wrong with her droid that he needed days to repair it?
"Well, don't tell your father about this opinion or he will fry you alive."
The woman smirked.
"Sorry, I think I didn't hear right. Did I hear a concern in your voice?"
Skywalker shrugged.
"Don't flatter yourself. I just prefer your face over your fathers."
Padmé opened her mouth to answer his insult (or maybe it was a compliment in his own twisted way), when someone knocked at the door.
"Come in." Anakin called and the Heiress huffed. Clearly, he preferred anyone's company over hers. After all, pretty face or not, she was still the single child of his arch enemy.
The door opened and revealed her handmaiden. Padmé scowled at her. Didn't Dormé know what she was interrupting? She pushed Padmé in this whole 'playful banter' (although Padmé couldn't call their conversation playful) for the love of Force.
Dormé met her scowl with an impassive expression.
"Master Skywalker." She greeted Anakin and glanced at Padmé. "Milady, you father is summoning you."
Padmé's eyebrows knitted together.
"Why?"
"He didn't tell me, Milady. He just said that he wants to see you. In his cabinet, Milady."
Padmé grimaced. Well, at least she didn't need to change her clothes.
"Let me grab my shawl and take me to him." She ordered her handmaid and rose from the bed. Padmé gave Skywalker a curt nod and grabbed Dormé's hand.
"How he looked?" She hissed in Dormé's ear.
"Well, I should say that I definitely appreciate his shirtless condition."
Padmé rolled her eyes.
"Not Skywalker, my father. How he looked to you? Angry, calm, unreadable..."
Dormé grimaced.
"Angry. Definitely angry."
"Sith's hell." Padmé mumbled and Dormé added.
"His whole room was shaking. I think, he shattered a vase or two."
"Kriff..."
"Don't swear." Dormé scolded her. "And Tarkin is there too."
"Well, great." The Heiress grumbled. "The last I wanted to see was that traitor's face. I don't know why father still keeps him."
"Tarkin is his best strategist?" Dormé suggested.
Padmé snorted.
"Please, my father has a brilliant mind. He doesn't need those cockroaches to plan his battles." She frowned as she looked down at her attire. "Go in my room and grab a shawl for me. Father will shatter more than two vases if he sees me in this."
Dormé was right, when she said that Emperor Palpatine was angry. He wasn't growling or something, like a normal person does. He wasn't even wearing an angry scowl on his face, but you could the how furious he was in his glimmering sickly yellow eyes and you could feel the tension in the air. One wrong move and Sith's hell would break.
Padme respectfully lowered her head as she greeted her father and Governor Tarkin. The Grand Moff gave her a tight-lipped smile and her father just nodded. The woman felt how chill ran down her spine. 'Be careful,' Dormé told her as she wrapped the shawl around Padmé's shoulders. 'Remember, daughter or not, one wrong word and he'll snap your neck.'
"My dear Daughter," Emperor Palpatine spoke. "I dare to say, you don't know why you are here?"
"I'm afraid, I don't, Father."
"Governor Tarkin." Palpatine addressed the Grand Moff. Tarkin cleared his throat and started.
"His Majesty showed me the plans of our weapon. We're already building it." Padmé could hear the smugness in his voice and she shot him a short scowl that quickly bled into a pleasant expression. So what, if Palpatine told that him before her? She still was Emperor's daughter, the heiress to the throne when he was just a replaceable governor.
"That's great news, Governor." She said carefully and left a hint of question in her voice. If they were already building that weapon, why was her father pissed beyond limits?
Her father noticed her question and glowered at Tarkin. His bony fingers tightly gripped the handles of his throne. Padme was amazed that the wood didn't break under the pressure.
"There's a spy in our palace or Senate." Palpatine snarled and Padmé gave him a bewildered look.
"The Senate is full of spies." She told him.
The Emperor shook his head and leaned backward with a frown marring his face. Padmé bit her lip; by his expression she could say that this spy was worse than brainless Organa or Mothma.
"After we imprisoned Skywalker, we fought against the rebels again. We thought that without their leader, they would be more confused. But we were wrong, they defeated us." Tarkin explained, twisting his thin lips into an ugly grimace. "They knew that we were planning a trap for them."
"Someone hacked our system?" Padmé asked warily.
"There was no trace of hacking." Palpatine growled and narrowed his eyes. Padmé felt how the air around her chilled and tainted from the darkness that was radiated by her father. Her father had no clue who was spy and because of that, he was extremely furious. And extremely furious Emperor Palpatine was extremely dangerous for the entire palace, including Padmé herself.
"Someone is spying us personally." Tarkin clarified. The Emperor nodded at his words and stared Padmé in her eyes sternly. The woman felt how her blood froze in her veins. She hated when her father scrutinized her like that, like she was a piece of meat brought out for selling. She bit her bottom lip. Narrowed yellow eyes meant that he was planning something with her. Something that probably would have an unpleasant end. Very unpleasant end.
"This is why I'm planning a ball tomorrow." The Emperor announced and Padmé gaped at him?
"A ball?"
"It will be perfect opportunity for me to probe everyone's mind. Also, I want you to observe them closely. You're very good at reading people." It wasn't compliment, just acknowledgment of her talents. "Also," Palpatine shifted in his throne. "I want you to be perfect daughter at the ball."
Padmé licked her dry lips.
"I'll always try to be a perfect daughter for you."
"No, Dear," her father interrupted her and the girl again felt the cool tightness around her and inside her stomach. The cool tightness that she usually referred as 'Her Father's Wrath' in her mind. The endearment meant that she was walking in dangerous waters and her father was annoyed by her. "Tomorrow you will be at your best, because you will meet your future husband at the ball."
Her future husband? Padmé felt like falling, like someone snatched the ground under her feet. From the corner of her eye she saw how Tarkin smirked triumphantly. Without a doubt, he suggested to her father to find a husband for her. 'It will only strengthen our connections with the planets of the Empire,' he probably said to her father. In reality, Tarkin just wanted her out of Coruscant, so he could easily take her place as the heir to the throne.
Well, he could keep dreaming, because Padmé never would give up what was rightfully hers.
The Heiress put her politician's mask on her face and eyed the men coolly. She wasn't going to act like a frightened girl and give them the satisfaction.
"I fail to remember when I became engaged to someone." She said emotionlessly.
"Don't act like a child, Padmé," her father said and Padmé shot him a glare worthy of a Sith Lord. "Senator Rush Clovis asked your hand for marriage and I accepted his proposal."
Padmé tried to remember who the Sith's hell was Rush Clovis. As her father mentioned, he was some Senator.
'Great, my father wants me to marry some brainless and spineless Senator.'
And like Sith's hell she was going to marry this kriffing Rush Clovis. She didn't need a Senator as her husband, thank you very much.
Besides, now, when she had Anakin Skywalker's company, poor Clovis only could dream on their future marriage, that would never happen.
"And you forgot to ask me if I wanted to marry someone?" Padmé asked sardonically.
Palpatine glared at her.
"You're a politician and my daughter, Padmé. What were you expecting that you would fall in love with someone, marry them and ride off into the sunset?"
Newsflash, Father: she already met that someone. Not that she was going to tell him that. Her father would fry both of them alive if he heard that she was lovesick for Anakin Skywalker.
"At least, I was expecting that I would know if I was going to wed someone."
"Well, you know now," the Emperor snarled. "Now, leave me and Governor Tarkin, we have things to discuss."
Padmé gritted her teeth and fought an urge to sneer at them. If her father thought, that she was another pawn of his, oh, how wrong he was and oh, how he was going to regret this.
'Not yet,' she chanted in her head. 'Don't show your anger. Don't blow your cover. Act like an obedient child he thinks you are.'
She quickly dropped a curtsy. Her plans swirling in her mind like a whirlpool of messy thoughts. This Rush Clovis would slightly hinder her schemes, but this whole marriage thing wasn't anything that she couldn't come out without breaking a sweat. She was Padmé Palpatine, for the love of Force. The future Empress of the Galactic Empire.
Padmé smirked. She could get used of this title.
Aand the award of Year's Father goes to Sheev Palpatine.
Seriously, I hate this man and I'm afraid that my feelings will cloud my writing when it comes to this character. He's manipulative mastermind bastard and I'll try to keep him in character. He would try to persuade Padmé to wed Clovis, but he's too angry now. Someone is getting the important information out the castle like it is nothing, so he doesn't have patient for pretty words.
And...
Did someone want Rush Clovis?
At first, I wasn't planning this marriage thing, but the wedding will only twist the plot. Did I mention that I like twisting everything?
Aaand I was going to put the ball in this chapter, but I didn't want to overwhelm it, so the ball will in following chapter. We will meet Rush Clovis (Force, I despise this man. Also, I was feeling bad, since I hadn't updated awhile. I should warn you, that this month is very busy for me, but I will try to post at least weekly updates.
And don't you worry; Padmé won't have butterflies in her stomach when she sees him. It needs a lot more than some green-eyed bastard to take her attention off Anakin.)
Love y'all,
Were