A quick update, but I'm away for the next few days so I won't be able to post another chapter until next week, and I wanted to get this one out in the meantime. Enjoy!

Two weeks passed in much the same manner—Anakin didn't set foot outside the royal apartment, and Amidala was always gone when he woke up and, aside from the occasional dinner together, usually came back after he'd fallen asleep (or was pretending to be asleep so as to avoid her). She informed him that he wasn't to start his Sith training with Palpatine until after they returned from their honeymoon, to his relief. Maybe in the meantime he'd be able to think of some way to get out of it, or at least to buy himself more time.

The day before the wedding, Anakin was once again left to his own devices and was reading a holonovel in his room, his attention only half on it, when Eirtaé came in to make the bed. "Oh, I'm sorry, My Lord, I didn't realize you were in here," she said.

"That's okay. No, stay," he said, seeing that she was making for the door. "I was just about to go sit on the balcony anyway."

Anakin hopped off the bed and went to sit on the balcony with his holonovel instead. "So, have you gotten your gift for Lady Amidala yet?" Eirtaé asked from inside while making up the bed.

His heart stopped. "Gift?" he repeated uncertainly.

"Yes, for your wedding."

Anakin was silent for so long that eventually Eirtaé poked her head out onto the balcony. Her eyes widened when she saw his bewildered look. "Oh. You didn't know?" she said.

He shook his head. "Is—is she getting me a gift?"

"Why, yes, she already has it all prepared," Eirtaé said. "It's a tradition on Naboo that newlyweds exchange gifts the morning after the wedding. I-I'm sorry, I should've told you that she intended to honor it…"

Anakin was racking his brains. What sort of gift could he possibly get Amidala? First of all, he hated her, second of all, she probably already had everything she could ever want and then some. "Do you have suggestions?" he asked anxiously. He wasn't so much worried about hurting her feelings by not getting her a gift, but if other people found out that she'd gotten him one and he'd neglected to do the same for her, it would cause a whole scandal and he'd get in trouble at least from Amidala if not also from Palpatine, and that was something he'd really rather avoid.

"Well…she loves jewelry," Eirtaé offered.

"Is there any kind of jewelry she wants that she doesn't already have?"

"I-I'm afraid I don't know, My Lord." Seeming to sense Anakin's growing distress, she quickly assured him, "I'm sure she'll be happy with anything you get her as long as it comes from the heart."

Jewelry…something that came from the heart…

Happy birthday, Mom. I'm sorry it's not much.

Oh, Ani, it's beautiful. The gifts we make ourselves mean so much more than the ones we purchase from someone else.

Why? I wanted to have enough money to get you something nicer.

Because I know you used something more valuable than money to make me this. Time and effort.

Suddenly Anakin had an idea. "Can you get me some japor wood and a carving knife as quickly as possible?" he said.

Eirtaé looked surprised but promised to do so, and Anakin had his gift by the end of the day. It wasn't much, but it would do. He hoped.

Anakin woke on the morning of his wedding feeling nauseous. He briefly entertained the thought of faking sick and making them postpone it, but he knew that would never happen. The guests had been arriving over the past several days, most of them staying in empty rooms throughout the palace, and he was sure all the galactic news outlets were already on Coruscant and had started their coverage of the event. No, this wedding was happening today whether he liked it or not.

There was a knock on his door and Rabé and Eirtaé entered when he gave his permission. "Good morning, My Lord," Rabé said, smiling. "Are you excited?"

Not for the first time, Anakin wondered if the handmaidens were also faking it to keep up appearances or if they genuinely believed he was happy about all this. For his part, he hadn't been doing much to hide his resentment thus far, though Amidala had thoroughly warned him against seeming anything but the happy husband in public. She hadn't explicitly said that Owen and Beru would be harmed if he didn't, but she hadn't needed to.

"Sure," he said a little sarcastically. "How much time before we leave?"

"Three hours, My Lord," said Eirtaé. "Lady Amidala started getting ready two hours ago, but we figured you wouldn't need as much time and decided to let you sleep in a little."

Even so, three hours was absurd; all Anakin needed to do was shower and change into his pre-prepared outfit. He insisted he didn't need any help getting ready and dismissed them, but they returned once he was showered and dressed and proceeded to fuss over him quite unnecessarily, smoothing out his clothes and making sure everything was buttoned properly and combing his hair and putting some makeup on his face. Anakin had never worn makeup before and found it very uncomfortable—what if he had to wipe his eyes and smudged it everywhere?—but the handmaidens insisted that he'd look pale and sickly on camera without it. Oh, that's right, his wedding was being broadcasted for the entire galaxy to see. Great.

At last they deemed him ready, and Anakin looked in the mirror and hated what he saw. He looked like a kriffing imperial poster boy. That was probably the point.

The handmaidens brought him to wait in an antechamber while the guests were filing into the throne room. Anakin had been waiting about ten minutes when Amidala arrived. He glanced up as she entered, and his breath caught slightly despite himself. She was wearing the most ridiculously elaborate gown he'd ever seen, mostly white with splashes of red, paired with an even more elaborate hairstyle and headdress, but he had to admit that she looked beautiful.

And oddly apprehensive. What did she have to be apprehensive about? Maybe she was afraid Anakin was going to kill her in her sleep that night; he'd thought about it but had ultimately decided it wasn't worth the risk. At least not yet.

Amidala came to stand beside him, giving him an awkward nod as she did so. "Anakin."

Anakin nodded back, just as awkwardly. "My Lady."

"We're about to be married, just Padmé will do," she said.

"Oh." He'd almost forgotten she had a first name.

They stood in tense silence for a while until Amidala said, almost timidly, "You look nice."

Anakin glanced down at himself. "I don't know. Black's not really my color. Bit evil-looking for my tastes."

Amidala let out a tiny amused huff, a genuine one, and to his confusion Anakin felt…pleased. Why? He'd been forced into this marriage, so why did he care whether or not he was able to make his soon-to-be-wife laugh?

And then they heard music start up outside. That was their cue. Trying not to show how ill he felt, Anakin offered his arm to Amidala, who took it, her own face carefully expressionless as well. They slowly proceeded down the length of the throne room together, the music sounding to Anakin more like a death march than a wedding march. Amidala suddenly dug her nails into his arm, and Anakin frowned and turned to look at her, then realized she'd plastered on a wide smile and he quickly did the same so that they'd look every bit the happy couple for the guests and the cameras which were recording every second.

At last they reached the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne. The officiant was waiting at the bottom for them, though Palpatine was sitting in his customary spot on the throne, reminding everyone exactly who was in charge here.

Anakin hardly heard anything that was said, so sickeningly loud was the pounding of his heart. He managed to speak when appropriate, and presumably Amidala did as well, for eventually they were being pronounced husband and wife. Anakin gazed down at her then; her mouth was still smiling and her eyes were utterly emotionless. At that moment, it hit him.

He was no longer Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight. He was Anakin Amidala, Sith apprentice and husband to the future empress.

Anakin leaned down to kiss her, sealing his fate.

The celebration after the ceremony lasted the rest of the afternoon and evening. Anakin spent most of the time fighting to keep up the pretense of happiness and trying to ignore Amidala sitting stiffly beside him, Palpatine breathing down both their necks, the incessant congratulations from increasingly intoxicated guests, and just everything, really.

On the whole the entire thing was incredibly dull and uncomfortable, but there was a brief moment of interest when Amidala's sister came over with her family in tow. Amidala gave what Anakin was pretty sure the first genuine smile she'd had all day, if not the entire time he'd known her, as she rose from her seat to greet them. Anakin rose as well, observing them curiously. They certainly didn't look evil; on the contrary, the two little girls whom he presumed were Amidala's nieces were actually very adorable.

"Congratulations," Amidala's sister said, throwing her arms around her.

"Thank you," Amidala replied, hugging her back before moving on to accept hugs from the rest of the family. Then she turned to Anakin. "Everyone, this is Anakin. Anakin, this is my sister Sola, her husband Darred, and their daughters Ryoo and Pooja."

"Hello," said Anakin, but he'd hardly gotten the word out before Sola was throwing her arms around him as well. He stiffened in surprise, relaxing a little after a moment and realizing that he had no idea when he had last been hugged. The Jedi weren't big on hugs.

"It's so nice to meet you, Anakin," Sola said. "I'll admit, we were all very surprised when we heard about the wedding, but Padmé told us you were wonderful and she was so thrilled to be marrying you, so then we were thrilled too."

"Oh. Yes. I…am also thrilled." He really was trying his best to sound convincing, but the exasperated look Amidala gave him over Sola's shoulder told him he hadn't done a very good job of it.

Sola let go of him at last and Darred shook his hand and congratulated him, and Ryoo gazed shyly up at him while Pooja tugged on Amidala's skirt and said, "Auntie Padmé, is that my new uncle? Mama said I was gonna have a new uncle."

Sola and Darred chuckled, and Amidala knelt down to Pooja's level and smiled at her. "Yes, this is your Uncle Anakin," she said. "Say hello."

"Hi!" Pooja said, beaming up at him.

Despite the situation, Anakin couldn't help but smile back. "Hi," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Pooja."

"Thanks!"

"I think you mean 'nice to meet you too,' sweetie," Amidala said, laughing.

Pooja obligingly repeated her words and then Ryoo said hello as well. But Anakin could hardly take his eyes off Amidala. Interacting with her young nieces like this, she seemed almost…human.

They chatted for a little while longer, and then Amidala said, "Thank you so much for having us to stay for a few days."

That's right, this must be the sister she'd mentioned visiting during their honeymoon. "We're more than happy to," Sola assured her. "It's been too long since my baby sister's come for a visit."

Amidala rolled her eyes and swatted her sister's arm in a way that was oddly childish and innocent. Anakin really didn't know what to make of all this.

Thankfully, her family departed again a moment later to allow them to speak with other guests and Anakin was able to put Amidala back into the correct compartment in his mind. She belonged with politicians and imperials; it was unsettling to see her associate with her own family, with young children. To see her display genuine human affection and warmth.

When the festivities finally drew to a close late that night, Anakin's split second of relief was promptly chased away as he realized that it was now officially his and Amidala's wedding night. The smirks all the guests gave them as they got up to leave told him that everyone else was thinking along the same lines.

He spent the entire walk back to their rooms trying to prevent his heart from beating out of his chest. Amidala had grown even tenser, if that was possible; Anakin got the distinct impression that if he were to push her over, she'd shatter into a thousand pieces when she hit the floor.

The handmaidens led the newlyweds to Amidala's bedroom, then shut the door after them. Shouldn't they stay to help Amidala out of her complex wedding gown? Then again, they were probably expecting Anakin to do that.

What in all the Sith hells had he gotten himself into?

The tension in the room was palpable, and the heavy silence was unbearable. Anakin was trying very hard not to look at Amidala, and he was also trying very hard not to look at the gigantic bed at the other end of the room. He'd known this would have to happen, had been dreading it ever since he'd arrived on Coruscant, but now that it was actually happening, here and now…well, it was another matter entirely.

Eventually it got to the point where Anakin legitimately wondered if they'd end up standing frozen in the middle of the room all night. Not that he'd really mind, considering the alternative. Sure, Amidala was attractive, but the idea of actually having sex with her…

But Anakin knew he had no choice. Even if they didn't consummate the marriage that night, eventually Palpatine, and the galaxy, and Amidala herself would expect them to produce heirs so that the Empire could continue on. It was inevitable, really. And so at last Anakin slowly shrugged his cloak off and said, trying to sound steadier than he felt, "I suppose we'd better get on with it."

Amidala had been gazing out the window into the black night, lit up by Coruscant's millions of artificial lights and all the fireworks to celebrate the imperial wedding, but now she turned towards him, looking nervous but determined. "We don't have to," she said quietly.

Anakin stared at her. "What?"

She sighed. "It's just the two of us now. We don't have to pretend anymore. I know you wanted no part of this marriage. I know you hate me. So I'm not going to make you do anything else you don't want to do."

Anakin could hardly believe his ears. "But—but what about—people will expect—don't you need heirs?"

Amidala shrugged. "Eventually," she said. "But I'm young, I have plenty of childbearing years left. It's not something I need to be worried about in the immediate future."

"So you aren't—you aren't going to make me sleep with you tonight?" Anakin said.

"No."

Anakin mulled this over. Perhaps Amidala was not quite as horrible a person as he'd originally thought. Not that that was saying much. "Well, we should at least make it look like we did," he decided. "To avoid suspicion."

"All right. Good idea."

Someone had transported a couple changes of clothes for Anakin into the wardrobe in Amidala's room, presumably for the next morning. Then he realized that the only other things in the wardrobe were nightgowns. "Where are all your other clothes?" he asked over his shoulder, reaching for a pair of leggings and a sleeping tunic (both black, of course).

"I have a separate room entirely dedicated to my clothes," Amidala said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Anakin twisted around to stare at her, letting out a disbelieving laugh as he did so. "You're joking."

"Not at all. It's that door right there," she said, pointing to a door next to the fresher. "I didn't show it to you on our tour because I didn't think you'd be interested."

Anakin went over to look and his jaw dropped as he saw how many gowns were in there. She really hadn't been joking; it basically was the size of an entire room. "Why in the Force do you need so many?" he demanded.

"Imperial heirs can't afford to repeat outfits too often. The HoloNet would have a field day."

He laughed again, and Amidala was tentatively smiling too, and as he went into the fresher to change, Anakin felt oddly—not happy, obviously, but not completely miserable, either. When he returned, he saw that Amidala had taken her hair out and was in the process of scrubbing her makeup off. Anakin busied himself strewing his wedding clothes all over the floor to make it look like they'd been deposited there in the heat of passion, and after a few minutes he heard her say, sounding rather awkward, "I—um—I need help with my dress."

When Anakin turned to look at her, he saw that she was blushing slightly and looking uncertain. "Well, it's no wonder. That thing looks more complicated than your average starfighter," he said, and Amidala visibly relaxed, a small chuckle escaping her.

Anakin approached her and went around to the back of her dress, and Amidala moved her hair out of the way. Her hair was really quite long, he thought absently as he fiddled with a clasp, much longer than he would've expected. He supposed he'd never seen her wear it down before. Anakin slowly but surely made progress on the dress, trying not to look as the fabric slid off her shoulders a bit, hand jumping when it accidentally brushed the skin of her lower back and made her inhale slightly.

"There. That should do it," he said finally, stepping back rather hastily.

"Thank you." Holding her wedding dress up with one hand, Amidala used the other to grab a nightgown out of the wardrobe. She too made her way over to the fresher, dress still on, but with the back of the bodice now wide open, and if Anakin stared at her bare back a little longer than was appropriate…well, no one but him would ever know.

Upon her return, Amidala seemed conflicted about whether she should drop her wedding gown in a crumpled heap or hang it up neatly, to which Anakin pointed out that she'd literally never wear it again unless she was planning to murder him in his sleep and marry someone else, in which case it would be rather tacky to wear the same wedding dress, anyway, so at last Amidala heaved a sigh, let it fall to the ground, and carefully arranged it to look like it had been thrown there carelessly.

After that, she headed towards the bed and climbed in. Anakin hesitated, feeling awkward again, and Amidala said, "Well, if we're not even sleeping in the bed together when my handmaidens come in tomorrow morning, they'll definitely know nothing happened."

"Oh. Right," Anakin said, and he gingerly got in beside her. The bed was so extravagantly gigantic that he doubted they'd even touch each other, unless one or both of them really flailed around in their sleep, but still, it felt strange. The only time he'd shared a bed with someone else was as a child, with his mother on Tatooine. Sharing a bed as an adult with Lady Amidala—his wife—was another thing altogether.

They were quiet for a while, and at last Amidala said, "Goodnight, Anakin."

"Goodnight, My Lady."

"Padmé."

"Right. Sorry." He'd have to get used to that.

"It's fine," Amidala—Padmé said. "Sleep well."

Anakin rolled over onto his side, facing away from her. He spent a long time trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was now married to the heir to the Galactic Empire, but he just couldn't do it, and eventually he abandoned his thoughts and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.