A/N: I'm sorry for the long gap between updates. This whole 'juggling stories' thing is harder than it looks :/ But, be prepared for cuteness, cuteness and more cutness because it's WEDDING TIME! :D nawwwwwwwww god I love these two. Hope you enjoy! xx
"How is your rehabilitation going, Anakin?"
Anakin smiles at the Hologram of Obi-Wan, projected by R2D2, and flexes his prosthetic fingers instinctively. "Excellent, Master," he replies happily, a wide smile on his face. "I've gained total control back in my arm now. I've been practicing every day."
Obi-Wan nods in approval. "Good. And, Senator Amidala? How is she?"
The question makes Anakin falter just a little. The more brazen, arrogant part of him wants to brag about just how wellPadmé is doing, how wonderful he made her feel, but he knows it would be foolish to do so. His Master specifically told him to break things off with her during this week of relaxation, and he has done the exact opposite - not only is he sleeping with Padmé, but he intends to marry her as well, which will occur this evening, at dusk. So, he swallows his masculine pride and resorts to humble innocence.
"She is well, Master. She and her handmaidens have been very good to me here. I'm being well looked after." Too well, he thinks to himself with a smirk, remembering the delicious turn the morning had taken, where Padmé let him pleasure her with his mouth, and then rewarded him with her own, shudder-inducing touch, letting him spill everything he had for her, all his pleasure and lust and desire. Just the memory causes tendrils of arousal to flicker in his groin.
"Good, good," Obi-Wan strokes his beard. "Anakin, I have some news for you.Good news."
Anakin tilts his head to the side in confusion. News? For some reason, he finds himself hoping that the Council has revoked their rule regarding attachment, and that he will be free to declare his marriage to Padmé to the entire galaxy. His upcoming nuptials is all he can think about. "What news, Master?" he asks, unable to keep the anticipation out of his voice.
His Master fixes him with a serious expression and smiles at him, a true, genuine smile that Anakin hasn't seen his Master show in a long, long time. "You've been promoted, Anakin. The Council has granted you Knighthood."
He blinks, stunned. It takes him a few moments to comprehend what he's just heard. Knighthood?!It can't possibly be true. He hasn't even taken the trials, how can be possibly become a Knight?
"Wait...Knighthood?!:" he repeats, incredulously. The words sound so right as they fall from his lips. "Are you sure, Master?"
Obi-Wan nods his head, a proud smile on his face. "Yes, Anakin. Myself, Master Windu, and Master Yoda believe you are ready to become a Knight of the Jedi Order."
A bewildered laugh bubbles out of him, and he grins widely, overjoyed by the news. Jedi Knight! He's dreamed of this day for years, yet he never expected it to be now.Absently, his hands come up to finger the braid that hangs beside his ear, the symbol of his rank as a Padawan, and he thrills with the thought of it no longer being a part of him. "Master..." he exhales, trying to control himself even though he wants to jump about in elation. "I can't believe it. This - this is... amazing!" he exclaims, breathy with excitement. Behind his robes, his heart is thumping wildly in his chest. "I don't - I just... wow!"
Chuckling, Obi-Wan grins at him through the Hologram. "Congratulations, Anakin. You are most deserving of this honor," he praises him.
Anakin nods vigorously. "But... how?The trials - I haven't - "
"The Council has decided to overlook the trials," his Master explains. "Your efforts on Geonosis worked in your favour. You showed great bravery and skill, far beyond your years and your training. That, in itself, is enough for the Council."
It's unbelievable. He physically can't believe his luck! First, Padmé confessed her love to him, then agreed to marry him, and now he's going to be a full-fleged Jedi Knight! It's as though the Force has decided he's had enough pain and suffering in his life and decided to reward him for his hardships. "Master," he begins after a moment, a sudden thought occurring to him. "I'm only nineteen. This means, I'll be the..."
"... youngest Jedi Knight in the history of the Order," Obi-Wan finishes with a flourish. "Yes."
"Wow..." Anakin mutters again, still overwhelmed by the news. How did this happen? "Wow.Thank you, Master!" He puts his hands together and bows respectfully.
Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Don't thank me, Anakin. You deserve this. You earned it."
"I wouldn't have if it weren't for your training, Master," Anakin insists, unusually humble. He feels a great sense of gratitude towards his Master. The pair of them have been through so much together over the years, and they are like brothers, like family.
"You were a good Padawan," Obi-Wan confesses, voice thick with pride. "Even if you did make me want to tear my hair out," he adds with a smirk.
Grinning smugly, Anakin counters, "Don't complain, Master. I was just keeping things...interesting."
Obi-Wan sighs, shaking his head. "Your idea of...interesting...is not the same as mine. You just wait until you have a Padawan of your own, Anakin. Then you'll see how...interesting, it is."
The suggestion makes Anakin scoff. "Me? Have a Padawan? Be serious, Master. I doubt Master Windu would let me have a Padawan. I doubt I'd be a very good teacher."
Stroking his beard, Obi-Wan smirks. "That is true. You seem to have a problem following direct orders." He fixes his eyes on Anakin, who laughs, then adds, fondly, "But, I'm glad you did."
"I wouldn't have let them kill you, Master," Anakin tells him softly. He's often wondered what would have happened if Padmé hadn't insisted on flying to Geonosis to aid Obi-Wan. He would have eventually caved, he likes to think. There's no way he would have left his Master's fate up to the Council. They never would have made it in time.
Obi-Wan meets his gaze with a kind expression on his face. "I know. But, you don't have to call me 'Master' anymore, Anakin. You're not my Padawan anymore."
It feels weird not to call Obi-Wan his Master, after so many years of doing so. "You'll always be my Master, Obi-Wan." He says it completely serious, full of the fierce affection he feels for the man. Having been stripped away from his mother at the age of nine, his Master had been his only friend, his only family - had cared for him and loved him like a brother, and Anakin loves him, too. Not in the same way he loves Padmé, of course, but just as much, he knows. Their bond is strong. Nothing will ever tear them apart, even though Anakin is now no longer his Padawan.
They share a knowing smile between the two of them, and even though he can't sense his Master through the Hologram, he knows his affection is reciprocated, simply from the look in his eyes. "I'm proud of you, Anakin," Obi-Wan says, his voice thick with emotion. "Very proud. You are going to be a great Jedi Knight. I have no doubt."
Anakin greatly appreciates his Master's praise - having sought it his entire Jedi life. Having started at the temple so many years later than many of the other Younglings, he'd always felt behind his peers, even though he excelled brilliantly. Knowing that his Master is proud of him, hearing those words, means a great deal to him. "Thank you, Mast - Obi-Wan," he corrects himself, a broad smile on his face.
"When you return to Coruscant, you will have your Knighting ceremony before we return to the war..." The older Jedi says before his attention is taken by something behind him and he turns his head. "I've got to go, Anakin. I will see you at the end of the week. Stay safe."
"Yes, you too, Obi-Wan."
Once the Hologram disconnects, Anakin sits back on the bed, resting one hand on his forehead. He can't believe what's just happened. It's truly incredible. Jedi Knight. Jedi Knight! He's been promote! No longer is he a Padawan, but a Knight in the Order. Now, he can command battalions, lead troops into battle. He can make decisions, instead of following his Master's lead - though he never followed the rules much as it was. All his life he's had a Master, had to follow orders, had to let someone else control his actions. But now, now he's in complete control. He is free, and the sense of pride and accomplishment that seizes him has him grinning ecstatically.
Leaping from the bed with renewed confidence, he tears downstairs at a rapid pace, his robes flying out behind him, seeking out Padmé. He has to tell her the news! She'll be so proud of him, he knows she will. She has to be. Anakin hasn't felt this overjoyed since Master Qui-Gon told him he was going to leave Tatooine and become a Jedi. In the ten years since, he's never known happiness like this. And, Padmé has to be the first person to know.
He finds her in the sitting room, talking with Sabé as they sit on the sofa. Next to them, the fireplace is simmering away quietly, a few glowing embers still hanging onto their last dying breath. Padmé lifts her head as he enters the room, and the smile she gives him makes his insides quiver in delight. It's as though his presence has just made her entire morning, and Anakin knows he will never get tired of seeing that smile. He will endeavour to make her smile that like for the rest of his life, he swears it.
"Padmé!" he calls her name, breathlessly, unable to stop grinning at her. She tips her head to the side curiously, her gorgeous brown eyes sweeping over his face almost like a physical caress as she studies him.
"Ani? What is it?"
Sabé excuses herself with a polite curtsy, which Anakin is grateful for. He wants to be alone with his beloved bride when he tells her the news.
He strides towards her, closing the gap between them and beams down at her, his hands coming up to rest on her shoulders. "I have wonderful news, my love," he whispers in barely contained excitement, his voice and hands quivering with it.
She giggles at his obvious glee, blinking up at him in expectation and places her hands gently on his chest. "Tell me."
Unable to keep it in anymore, he grins and the words rush out of him all at once. "I'm being Knighted!" he tells her. "I'm not a Padawan anymore. I'm a Jedi Knight!"
Her expression morphs from mild intrigue to fierce pride as she smiles widely up at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and hugging him passionately. "Anakin, that's wonderful," she praises softly in his ear, and he laughs, before clasping her tightly around her waist and lifting her off the ground, spinning her around in his euphoria. Her silvery laugh echoes his own as they embrace fiercely, and Anakin can't recall a moment quite like this, where he's ever felt so happy. Thisis what he wants for the rest of his life, to be able to share his life and achievements with Padmé.
When he finally lowers her back to the ground, she caresses his cheeks with her smooth hands. "I'm so proud of you, Ani," she tells him, and it inflates his ego to beyond reason. The knowledge that she is proud of him is the only recognition he desires. Her approval, her love, is all he will ever require for as long as he lives.
"Obi-Wan told me just now," he explains, keeping his hands full with the curves of her hips, his fingers rubbing gently against her. "After what happened on Geonosis, Master Yoda and Master Windu are disregarding the trials. When I return to Coruscant, I'll have my Knighting ceremony!"
He expects her to congratulate him, perhaps even kiss him, but she does neither of these things. Instead, her face falls, a melancholy smile pulling at the corners of her lips, and she peers up at him with sad eyes. "That's – that's wonderful, Ani," she mutters quietly.
Anakin frowns, troubled by her sudden change in demeanour, and tilts her head up a little with a lone finger under her chin, so he can fully look deep into her eyes, searching her face for an answer. "Padmé? My love, what's wrong?" he asks, concerned. "Are you – are you not happy for me?"
She shakes her head, a solitary tear leaking from her eye and gives him a watery smile. "No, I am, Ani. Truly. I'm so very happy for you. So very proud…" her voice trails off, and she sighs miserably, and Anakin hates seeing her like this. "I just – I don't want you to go back to Coruscant." Her eyes dart to the ground as she voices in a small, timid voice, what's truly bothering her, as though she's ashamed to admit it, to take away from his happiness. And, it's so endearing to Anakin that he can't help but smile warmly down at her and gently smooths his thumb across her cheek, nudging the little freckle that sits perfectly in the center of her cheekbone.
"Padmé…" he whispers her name and bends to kiss her sweetly, his heart swelling with deep affection for her. He feels the exact same way.
She shakes her head sadly and gives him a weak smile. "I'm just being silly," she tells him. "Only, these last few days with you have been…," she breaks off, trying to find an adequate word to describe how she feels, but he simply nods in understanding.
It's indescribable, the way he feels when he's with her. There are not enough words in any spoken language in the galaxy that can accurately pinpoint the emotions that she stirs within him. "I don't want you to leave."
It's almost amusing to him that out of the pair of them, she is the one who is begging him to stay. Anakin is loath to leave her, but he knows he has no choice. He's resided himself to the fact that, by the end of the week, he must return to Coruscant for his Knighting ceremony and then go off to fight in the war. Obi-Wan gave him a week, and he knows that if he doesn't return within that week, the Jedi will probably send out a search party looking for him. It's a grim fate, but Anakin doesn't want to think about the future. He just wants to be here, in this moment, with Padmé.
"I don't want to leave you, either," he tells her honestly. "It'll be the hardest thing I've ever done. But, I have to, Padmé. It's my…duty." When he says the words, he sees a flash of recognition across her face. The word duty resonates with her, he knows. She's duty-bound, just like he is; compared to the war breaking out around them, their love is practically miniscule. There is a bigger picture, they both know it, and regardless of how much it pains them to have to be apart, they both know what they must do.
So, she simply nods her head slowly, blinking up at him with large, compassionate eyes. "I know," she whispers, her voice soft and full of despair.
Anakin bends to rest his forehead against hers, staring into her beautiful brown eyes. He could get lost in those eyes endlessly, they draw him in like nothing else. "Don't think about it now, my love," he tells her. "We still have a few days together. We're lucky to even have this." If it wasn't for Obi-Wan's generosity regarding Anakin's recovery, he never would have come here. In a way, he's almost thankful to his – now former – Master.
A tear slides down her cheek, and Anakin catches it with his thumb, brushing it away softly, before kissing her lips once more. "Don't cry, Angel, please…" he implores her. There's nothing he hates more than seeing his beloved upset. It physically pains him. "You can't be sad today," he insists with a warm smile. "It's our wedding day!"
Padmé gives a tearful chuckle and beams up at him, sliding her hands up behind his neck to caress the ends of his hair. "Yes, it is," she whispers happily, and Anakin is glad to see the smile on her face. While she is always beautiful in his eyes, when she smiles, she is positively radiant. "And, you can't be in here. It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding." Her lips curve into a knowing smile.
Rolling his eyes, Anakin laughs. "I didn't realise you were this superstitious, milady," he teases her with a wink.
She grins. "It's a Naboo custom."
"Very well, my love," Anakin concedes. "I will respect your customs." He bends and kisses her one last time, unable to resist the lure of her perfect, lush, lips, and slides his mouth along her smooth cheek to rest beside her ear. "I can't wait to marry you and make you mine," he breathes into her ear, and delights in the little shudder his words induce in her. For a moment, he believes he has crumbled her resolve, until she's pushing him towards the door with a laugh, and he obliges with little resistance.
Just as he turns to leave, he looks back over his shoulder to see her smiling widely at him. "I can't wait to marry you either, my beloved Jedi Knight," she murmurs and her words and the acknowledgement of his new title make him swell with utmost pride.
He doesn't think he'll be able to stop smiling for the rest of the day.
Padmé does her best to avoid Anakin all day, even though she longs for him desperately. Somehow, she knows it will be for the better, and will only make their sweet reunion tonight all the sweeter if they have spent the entire day apart. A shudder of sensual anticipation ignites her soul as she casts her mind forward, to the wedding and beyond, where she will fall into Anakin's arms as his wife, and she is more excited for that moment than she could ever have thought possible.
To distract herself, she keeps busy with organising the necessary things for the wedding. Sabé has organised her gown and flower bouquet, as well as the Holy man who will wed her and Anakin, and has gone into the city to collect them. Padme only trusts her closest handmaidens with these personal tasks. They are loyal to her and have proved their loyalty more than once, risking their own lives for hers. They will keep quiet about her marriage to Anakin, she knows. But, no one else can know. Word travels like wildfire and if anyone saw them…if word got back to the Queen, she would likely lose her position as Naboo's Senator, not to mention that Anakin would be expelled from the Order. She can't do that to him, not so soon after he's been promoted. He's told her many times he'd give it all up for her, but after seeing him today, how happy and proud he was of his new Knighthood, Padmé knows he would regret it, even if he never admitted it.
Padmé hates secrecy. She hates lies and deception and feels almost hypocritical that she is about to be secretly married to a Jedi, going behind the backs of the Order, the Senate, the Queen, and her own family. And yet, despite how that makes her feel, she can't find it within herself to back out. She loves Anakin. The thought of being his wife thrills her. As he'd explained, the war isn't going to last forever, and when it's finally over, they'll be able to be a proper family. She longs for that day more than she cares to admit.
Of course, she wants peace for the Republic, but she can't deny that her main motivation is so she and Anakin can be together, properly. Perhaps, after the war is over, the Order won't be so strict about attachments. Maybe Anakin will be able to persuade them? And, in any case, she's more than willing to leave the Senate once there's peace. They'll find a way to make it work – she knows it.
"You're awfully cheerful today, milady," Dormé notes as she enters her bedchamber to get her bath ready.
Padmé turns and smiles at her handmaiden. Compared to yesterday, when she spent the entire day curled up in bed with the curtains drawn, wallowing in sorrow, she feels like a whole new woman – renewed and rejuvenated and completely...elated. "Thank you, Dormé. I'm feeling much better."
Her handmaiden flashes her a sly grin, which makes Padmé narrow her eyes suspiciously. "Must have been a good sleep, milady. Or, should I say, lack of sleep."
At the blunt accusation, Padmé feels her cheeks flush, and she opens her mouth to retort when Dormé continues, "Don't try to deny it. You were conveniently absent from your bedchamber this morning, and I could distinctly hear you moaning and sighing in the room next door." Her face grows even hotter, and she averts her gaze in embarrassment, shifting in her seat at memories of the morning come flooding back. Anakin… worshipping her, with his hands and… and his mouth, bring her pleasure that she'd never known existed. It's enough to make her clench her thighs and bite her lip as she recalls the wonderful things he'd done to her...to think of what he would do to her tonight.
When she refuses to comment, Dormé only smirks. "So, you finally slept with your Jedi, then." She nodded her head feebly, seeing no reason to lie. Her handmaiden already knew the truth. "And…? How was it?"
It was then that Padmé met her handmaiden's eyes seriously. "Momentous," she uttered in an awed whisper. There really was no other way to describe it. Making love with Anakin had been painful and uncomfortable, yes, but it had also been the greatest thing she'd ever experienced. He'd been so sweet and gentle with her, despite how nervous and naïve he was himself. She'd loved the feeling of him inside her, filling her like nothing else could; loved hearing her name upon his lips, the low, breathy gasps she draw from him as he took his own pleasure from her. She'd loved the way his eyes locked on hers as he reached his climax, the way his hard body felt as it slid above and within her own. Despite the fact that she had been denied her own orgasm, she couldn't complain, because her true joy was simply being with Anakin, and giving him such intense pleasure through her body.
Besides, he'd definitely made up for it this morning, she thought with a secretive smile.
Dormé grinned impishly at her, waggling her eyebrows. "That good, huh? Tell me, milady, if I may be so bold. Is Master Skywalker as… impressive...as he looks? He's rather tall, so one would expect him to be quite...generously endowed, but you never know…"
Padmé's eyes widen in shock, and she stares at her handmaiden, unable to believe the things coming out of her mouth. "What exactly are you asking me?" she asks, feigning innocence.
Her handmaiden's eyes twinkle with mischief. "Is he… well proportioned?" she asks with a wink.
Swallowing and shaking her head, she fixes her handmaiden with a stern frown. "Dormé! You are far too bold. Master Skywalker is a Jedi. You ought to show him more respect."
Humbling considerably, Dormé lowers her head and nods. "Yes, milady. I'm sorry, I spoke out of turn."
She sets about getting the bath ready, and Padmé, smirking, can't resist divulging just a little information. Her handmaidens are her best friends, after all, and it's only natural to talk about such things amongst themselves. "And, by the way...yes," she answers her questions with a shy smile, her cheeks flushing hotly. "He is very well proportioned."
Dormé grins, winks again, and then sets about adding the sweet smelling bath salts to the steaming water. Once it is ready, Padmé settles into the bath and lets Dormé wash her hair. It's very relaxing, letting her handmaidens wash her hair, and Padmé hums contentedly and closes her eyes as Dormé's fingers massage her scalp and comb through her tangled curls.
"I didn't just sleep with him, you know," she informs her handmaiden after a time. It's important that she expresses this, important that she emphasises how much she loves Anakin, and isn't just using him. If word ever got out about what happened here, Padmé knows that's what they all would insinuate, the press – that Anakin is her secret lover, and they both know that's not what they mean to each other. Their love transcends physical infatuation; it is deep and steadfast and true, a spiritual and emotional entwining of two souls who, without the other, would not exist.
"We're getting married this afternoon."
"I know, Sabé told me," Dormé concedes with a smile. "You really love him, don't you?"
A silly grin pulls at her mouth, and she nods her head. "Yes. I do. Very, very much." Never would she have thought that little Ani, the nine-year-old slave from Tatooine would own such a strong, solid space in her heart, and yet, here they are. Her fourteen-year-old self probably would have laughed hysterically if she'd been told she was going to marry him one day. Now, it brings the most affectionate smile to her lips.
"I'm so pleased for you, Padmé. Sabé as well. We only want your happiness, milady."
"Thank you, Dormé," Padmé turns her head to look up at her handmaiden. Both Dormé and Sabé have been by her side for years – she considers them her closest and most trusted friends. Their approval means a great deal to her. "No one must ever know, you understand?" she says, suddenly turning serious. "Not even my family can know. It has to remain a secret."
Dormé nods her head solemnly. "Of course, milady. We will not betray you. You have my word."
Reaching out, Padmé squeezes her handmaiden's hand affectionately. "I trust you."
They grow silent as Dormé rinses out the shampoo and applies a layer of conditioner to keep her hair smooth and luscious. When her bath grows cold, she steps out and dries herself, just as Sabé returns with her wedding gown. Padme is lead back into her bedchamber and when her eyes land on the beautiful garment laid out upon her bed, her eyes fill with tears.
It's beautiful. The ivory silk bodice and skirt is embroidered with elegant swirls of pale gold thread and dusted with tiny seed pearls, making it shimmer in the light. A thin cloak made entirely of white lace accompanies the gown, which spills out into long, flowing sleeves and train. Her veil is a delicate lace headpiece of the same ivory as the gown itself. Padme is speechless for a moment as she gazes at it. It's more beautiful than anything she could have imagined.
"Sabé…" she whispers in awe, taking a step towards the bed. It's almost too pretty to touch, so her hand just hangs awkwardly in the air, inches away from the fabric.
"Do you like it, milady?" Sabé asks timidly, voice tinged with worry. "It was difficult to find something at such short notice and in your size."
Padmé tears her eyes away from the dress to look up at her handmaiden, her eyes rapt. "It's stunning," she gushes. She can just imagine the look on Anakin's face when he sees her in this, this afternoon, and it sends thrills down her spine. "Thank you."
"You deserve nothing less than perfection for your wedding day, milady," Sabé says fondly, with a bright smile. "It's the biggest day of your life, and we want to make sure it's perfect."
A rush of affection for her handmaidens overwhelms her, and Padmé beams widely at them, rushing towards them and pulling them both into her arms for a fierce hug. Tears stream down her cheeks as they giggle and sob into each other's arms. Padmé has never felt more grateful for her handmaidens; they are her closest companions and truest friends, and she is ever appreciative of all they do for her.
When they pull away, Padmé sniffles and wipes her eyes, unable to stop smiling. Dormé laughs and shakes her head. "That's enough crying, milady. Save the tears for the actual wedding. We can't make you look like a bride when you're blubbering." Padmé grins at her; whilst Sabé is mellow and sweet, Dormé is snarky and sarcastic. She adores both of them.
"Yes, milady," Padmé teases and takes a seat in front of her vanity, giving over control to her handmaidens.
In a few hours, she will marry Anakin. She can hardly wait.
She's breathtaking. It's the first thing that comes to mind when Anakin sees her walking towards him. All he can do is stare at her. Truly, there is no creature in the entire galaxy that comes close to the beauty of Padmé Amidala. His Padme. She's like some sort of divine goddess as she approaches him. Her ivory gown glitters like starlight in the late afternoon sun. The smile on her face is radiant, and she's positively glowing with joy – Anakin can feel it bursting out of her through the Force, like a bright ray of sunshine. As she comes closer, he notices her eyes are glistening with moisture, evidence of her happiness. Because of him. It only makes him swell with intense masculine pride.
When she reaches him, a delicate pink blush decorates her cheeks, and Anakin sweeps his gaze over her form, drinking in her gorgeous hair that falls in two loose curls beside her face, the rest hidden underneath her lace veil, the slow rise and fall of her chest beneath her gown. All he wants is to take her in his arms and kiss her, meld his lips to hers for all eternity. He's barely aware of the Holy Man who stands before them, ready to wed them, or Artoo, Threepio, Sabé and Dormé, who stand off to the side, as witnesses. His attention is entirely focused on her.
His beautiful bride.
The thought thrills him like nothing else. After today, he will be a married man, a husband. After today, Padmé will be his wife. It's almost too good to be true. Even now, when he's standing here in his black robes, and she is standing next to him in her wedding gown, Anakin can't quite wrap his head around the fact that they are to be married. It's a dream, surely. For how can she possibly want to marry him – she is a beautiful, brilliant, intelligent woman, and he is young, reckless and impulsive, unworthy of her affection?
Yet here she is, shining in the sunlight like an Angel, so beautiful, so pure, so willing to bind her life to his, that Anakin accepts that it has to be real. In response, he beams down at her, hoping to replicate the wonderful emotions currently stirring within him, because she deserves nothing less. Padmé deserves everything he can give her, all the love and devotion he is capable of possessing, and he vows to bestow such affection on her every minute of every day for as long as he lives.
The Holy Man begins reciting from an ancient text; a typical Naboo custom for weddings, but Anakin isn't paying attention. Instead, he closes the distance between them until he is merely a hairs breath away and inhales her intoxicating perfume deeply through his nose. "Hi," he whispers softly.
She beams up at him, a soft giggle slipping past her lips. "Hi," she returns his greeting, blinking shyly up at him through her eyelashes.
"You're so beautiful right now," he tells her honestly, every word dripping with the intense adoration he feels for her. His words cause her to flush even deeper and that urge to kiss her only grows stronger.
"So are you," she whispers back, equally genuine.
Artoo beeps softly, interrupting their moment, and Anakin realises that the Holy Man has asked for him to recite his vows. He swallows. Vows?! He'd written his vows earlier that day, on a piece of paper, but in his excitement and eagerness, he'd left it in his room. Force, he curses himself internally. How could he have been so stupid to forget his vows? He feels panic rising in his chest and flicks his gaze at Padmé, who peers up at him curiously. He doesn't want to disappoint her, so, instead, he gives her a falsely confident smile and swallows his fear.
You're a Jedi Knight now, Skywalker. Act like it.
It shouldn't be that hard to say his vows. They are meant to speak from the heart, after all, and Anakin holds a lot of feelings in his heart for Padmé. All he has to do it express them. Easy.
"My dearest Padmé," he begins slowly, smiling down at her. "From the moment I first saw you, all those years ago, when I was a slave on Tatooine, I have loved you. You have been in my heart every day since the moment you first smiled at me, and I know I will love you with all that I am, body and soul, until the day I die. You are my only love," his voice cracks with emotion as he says it, and it's mirrored in her moist eyes. "You alone are the owner of my heart. I will never love another. I will never see another. It's you, my love. It always has been thus, and it always will be so. I vow to protect you, to support you, to love, honor, and cherish you, until the end of my days and for the end of time."
When he finishes his vows, he feels a tear slide down his cheek, and Padmé is actually sobbing, her shoulders shaking with the intensity of it, and at first Anakin wonders what he's said to upset her. Until, she reaches for his hand and squeezes it gently, giving him a beautiful, watery smile. "Ani," she whispers thickly. "I love you. I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart, but you came along and swept me off my feet. You fill my life with so much joy, with so much love and life, you are my own ray of sunshine, my protector, my lover, my best friend. You know me better than I know myself. When I'm with you I am home," she trembles and gives a small sob, and Anakin squeezes her hand tightly, encouraging her to continue. "I will spend the rest of my life proving my love to you, my beloved Ani, for I cannot express what you mean to me in words. I will love you for eternity and beyond. I will love you across the stars."
Her words resonate deeply within Anakin. Their eyes lock, never leaving each other's fierce embrace, and Anakin is flying. He's left his body and is watching the entire scene unfold before him with new eyes. It's a strange experience; he's never felt so solely attached to one person before, as though there is an invisible cord that connects them, her heart and his, and it cannot be broken, not even by a lightsaber.
The Holy Man recites more words from the Naboo text, but Anakin tunes out. Padmé takes his mechanical hand in hers then, and he twines his cold, metal fingers with her smooth, warm ones, relishing in her soft touch. His brain goes numb; he can barely utter the words, "I do." All he knows is that his face is suddenly moving closer to hers, and their foreheads are touching, and her perfect lips part and echo his vow. And, then their lips touch. It's soft and sweet and gentle, strangely timid, considering what they have done the night before, and yet, it's the greatest kiss Anakin has ever received. It's a kiss of promise, of eternal love, the entwinement of two individuals in the deep bonds of matrimony.
They keep their hands clasped together and talk with their mouths, express their love for each other in the most sacred of physical gestures. And when they part, they smile at each other, and Anakin's heart swells with overwhelming love for his wife.
And there, just for a moment, graced by the golden, orange and pink glow of the Naboo sunset, Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala cease to exist, and they are simply two individuals united as one. Man and woman.
Husband and wife.