Note 1: This fic is AU. Star Wars and its affiliates do not belong to me, only the contents of this Verse.
Note 2: Thank you to my betas chrishuyen and Young at Heart 21. You guys are great. Also, thank you to Anakin Jason Skywalker Kenobi Jinn for reading this chapter.
Note 3: This chapter is rated M for content.
The Sith and the Senator
Chapter 13: To Dare A Senator
By WrittinInStone
Darth Vader
I stretch as I arrive at my office in the Senate, taking off my cloak and redressing in my senatorial robes before settling behind my desk.
Playing with the Jedi had been fun, and now, it is time for even more.
It is almost noon and Amidala should be here within the next few minutes for our lunch.
I'm a bit curious to see if she will come or not, though I suspect she will; she seems determined to prove to me that she is not a coward.
It's quite amusing.
I smirk as I hear my receptionist move to answer the door. So, Amidala did come after all, exactly as expected.
I rise as Amidala sweeps in, her lips pinched, her eyes glaring. She is wearing a dark blue and white dress that covers every part of her. It's probably purposeful, a subtle message to me that she off limits.
If only she knew the plans I have for her, plans that are being carried out in this very moment: She wouldn't have bothered with such messages.
"Amidala," I greet with a smile, "so glad you could make it."
"As if you didn't know I'd come," she retorts immediately, eyeing my office as she nears my desk.
"True," I concede, "I knew you wouldn't back down from a challenge. You haven't yet."
I smirk inwardly at the annoyed glare she sends my way. She is so full of energy and rage, it's intoxicating. I can't wait to touch that passion, that fire.
"Shall we go?" I continue, moving from behind my desk and toward a well-hidden door. "This is my private exit. No one will see us leave together."
"I thought we were eating lunch here," she responds, suspiciously.
"I never said that," I reply with a shrug, "I said that we could meet here. Besides, I know a nice little place we can eat that will afford us the utmost privacy. No reporters, I promise."
She bites her lip, frowning at me before nodding curtly.
I hold back a laugh as I return her nod, gesturing with my hand that she go first: I am a gentleman, after all.
She shoots me another glare before moving forward, gliding gracefully across the carpet and through the exit.
As we walk down the hall, my eyes slowly run over her form. She is a fine female specimen, with curves in all the right places and a generous amount of breasts. She is short, too, but that's not a bad thing.
I look up at the sudden sound of a throat being cleared in irritation. My eyes rise to meet her annoyed brown ones.
"Are you quite finished?" she asks tersely, obviously noticing my perusal.
"Just admiring the view," I respond slyly, as we reach the private hangar where my hovercar is.
She smirks, "Well, do enjoy it. It's the closest you'll ever get."
I laugh. "You are quite confident that you can resist me, Amidala. Perhaps too confident. What say you to a dare?"
"A dare? Why the hell would I do something like that?" she asks scornfully.
"Because you don't want me to think you're a coward," I reply promptly, slyly, fighting to hold in my laughter at her sudden and intense frown.
I can almost see the knobs turning in her head: she is so incredibly easy to manipulate that it's pathetic.
"Very well," she says, lips thinning as she stops and turns to me. "What is this dare?"
"I dare you to allow me to kiss you. You must give me from this moment to the time we get back to the Senate to do so," I say with a smirk. "And if you're as strong willed as you think, you should have no trouble resisting the effect of my kiss."
Her eyebrow arches as she tilts her head to look at me, her face expressionless. "Fine," she says after a long moment, continuing to walk. "I accept your dare. I hope you're as smooth as you think you are, Skywalker."
I merely grin, amused by her pride.
This is going to be so much fun.
#*#*#*#*#
The restaurant we go to is called the "Secret Fin" and is one of the few places my very private and anal sensibilities will allow me to frequent.
It is truly a posh place, having low, yellow lighting and comfortable chairs and booths. The food is edible and the service is adequate. But more than that, it has privacy screens that makes it virtually impossible to see who else is in attendance.
My kind of joint.
"Hm," Amidala says, obviously impressed as she takes in the upscale atmosphere. "I never knew this place existed. At least it can be said that you have good taste in restaurants."
"Is that a compliment?" I ask, eyebrow raising.
"Perhaps," she allows with a smile. "I do know how to give those out, you know."
"Really?" I say in mock surprise. "I wasn't aware."
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Skywalker," she replies quietly.
"Well, hopefully, I can learn some right now," I say softly.
Her smile drops and her eyes widen before she blushes and looks away.
I smile, amused. Amidala is such a compelling blend of contradictions. It's fascinating to watch her as I never know what she's going to do next.
She clears her throat. "So… tell me what your favorite film genre is."
I shrug. "I don't really watch films. I've only ever seen a few."
"What?!" she gasped, looking outraged. "That's a travesty. We're going to have to change that as soon as possible." She cocks her head to the side, studying me for a moment. "If you don't like doing the most amazing hobby in the galaxy, what do you like to do?"
A vision flashes of me merrily skipping through the Senate, decapitating every politician and Jedi I come across. Finally, I shrug, a small smile on my face. "Nothing you'd be interested in."
She arches an eyebrow, falling silent as our waitress comes and takes our order, placing two glasses on the table and filling them with red wine before leaving.
"Tell me this, Skywalker," Amidala says suddenly, her brown eyes gazing seriously at me, "do you believe in true love? And I'm talking about romantic, soul mate love, not familial love."
I sit back in my seat, reaching to take a sip of my wine, frowning at her. I'm surprised at the question considering the source; Amidala has never struck me as a romantic.
"I think the first order of business would be to define true love," I say slowly, twirling my wine around in the glass.
"Well, what is it to you?"
My frown deepens. I've never really thought about it because it's never been important. I've never experienced any type of that useless emotion and I'm stronger than I've ever been…
A sudden vision of a woman with dark hair and a tired, but warm smile swims before my eyes before I blink it away.
"I couldn't say," I respond finally. "I could speculate, but it wouldn't be based on reality."
"Ah," she says, and I hate the way she says it as though it fucking means something. And the way she's looking at me infuriates me, as though she pities me.
"What about you?" I ask curtly, ire rising. "Do you know what true love is?"
"Well, like you, I can only speculate," she replies, fingering her glass. "But unlike you, I think that's okay."
"Do enlighten me then," I say, taking another sip of my wine. "What exactly does Padmé Amidala think love is?"
"Trust," she says suddenly, quiet and serious, "being able to be yourself around your mate, no matter how crazy that is. Looking at her and knowing that wherever you are, you'll always be home as long as she is there. True love is knowing that you can't live without her, that nothing in the world is more important than being with her. True love is that funny, warm feeling that you get when you look into her eyes; it's the ability to be happy, even when things are bad."
I am silent for a moment, contemplating her words. The thought of such emotions are… strange and uncomfortable. True love sounds crippling, unrealistic and completely whimsical; it might as well be a lightsaber through the midriff.
She smiles, apparently at the look on my face.
"You don't think it's possible," she states matter-of-factly.
"I don't think two people are capable of compromising in a way that would allow that type of love. People don't seem to realize that one and one equals two: that's not a relationship. A true relationship is when two become one and you can only do that if you are willing to give up half of who you are," I respond.
A delicate eyebrow arches. "That is surprisingly intuitive of you," she says, "perhaps, despite your objections, this is what you truly want."
I tilt my head at her as yet another vision plagues me; I am on a bed, ferociously pumping between Amidala's legs as she claws my back, arching to meet my savage thrusts.
I blink and the vision is gone.
"It's similar," I say, smirking evilly at her.
"I don't like that look on your face," she says laughingly. "But okay."
I look up as the food arrives, smiling slightly at her look of delight.
"I never knew you were such a romantic," I say, as I began to eat my dish: Corellian spiceloaf, "and I never knew you enjoyed food so much."
"Well, now you know," she says, smiling wryly at me as she digs into her Csolcir.
We are silent as we eat our food. I am satisfied with my meal; it's not bad.
When I look up from my plate to take a sip of my wine, I find Amidala eyeing my spiceloaf. "That looks tasty," she says suggestively, before reaching over with her fork and snagging a piece of my meal.
"Hey!" I cry in mock outrage. "Food thief! Well, two can do that!" Swiftly, I reached over and capture a piece of her Csolcir, pushing it into my mouth triumphantly.
"That's delicious," I say smugly, washing it down with another gulp of wine.
"Isn't it?" she asks softly and I am conscious a sudden softening of her eyes.
My smile fades upon seeing it. Noticing my perusal, she coughs and looks away, a stain reddening her cheeks.
I gaze at her, confused by the strange feeling welling within me. Frowning, I dismiss it. It's probably this Force-damned spice loaf; it's not good enough for my Sith stomach.
"Skywalker? It's about time to return to the Senate," Amidala says, waving a hand in my face, cutting through my thoughts. "But I have to freshen up before we go. I'll be back."
She sends me a small smile before rising and moving toward the ladies' room. I watch as she walks, once again taking note of her grace, of how regal she is. I wonder if she was taught to walk like that, or if her gait is natural, a reflection of who she is.
Before she can completely disappear from my sight, something moves into my line of vision; a man.
I grit my teeth as I realize who it is: It's Bud Sabers, a reporter who's decided it's his job to chronicle my conquests.
How had he gotten in here? And why haven't I killed him yet? Both are really good questions.
"Anakin Skywalker," Bud Sabers exclaims, flashing gold teeth as he eyes me. "I didn't know you were here, so nice to see an old friend again."
I close my eyes, calling on the Force for patience. I really should have included reporters in my decapitation fantasy.
He glances at the second plate on the table.
"And you're here with a friend," he says excitedly, and I can almost see the credit signs in his eyes.
"Go away," I say quietly, fighting back the snarl threatening to blossom on my face. It was important for me to keep a lid on my more… volatile emotions. When they are unleashed, people usually die.
"Oh, you don't mean that," the fool says dismissively, a sly smile on his face. "Who's your date today, Senator Skywalker? A famous actress? An old matron? A fellow senator?"
"Sir," a voice interrupts; it's the waitress, moving toward us and looking at Sabers with an annoyed expression on her face. "On-duty reporters are not allowed in here. We have a very strict policy regarding our guest's privacy; you must leave immediately."
Sabers opens his mouth to retort but quickly bites back his protests upon spying the quick approach of very muscular security personnel.
Paling, he begins to back away. "Sure, sure, of course," he says with false cheer, "I'll see you soon, eh, Senator?"
I nod to my waitress as she leaves; it's good to see someone doing their job competently for once.
I am standing with Amidala returns, having already paid and generously tipped the waitress.
"We have to go," I say tersely, grabbing her arm. "There's a reporter stalking me and before you go nuts, I didn't set this up."
She frowns at me suspiciously before nodding. "I understand that well enough," she acknowledges, "I have my fair share of 'followers'."
"This way," I say, pulling her behind me to the front of the restaurant.
"Why are we going out through the front?" she asks, stumbling as I tug her in my wake.
"Because he's going to be expecting us to go out the back," I respond matter-of-factly. "I've encountered Sabers enough to know how he operates."
As soon as we hit the entrance, we're running through the street, dodging patrons left and right.
"Running away from people seems to be a theme with you," she shouts as we round a corner.
"Keeps things interesting," I return with a smirk, looking over my shoulder to see that, sure enough, that fucker Sabers is chasing us.
"Over here," I say, pulling her into a district popular for its young and… liberal patrons.
As we run, I grin upon hearing Amidala's gasp. The young people here have no qualms about racy art, outrageous forms of self-expression and… public displays of affection. Even now, there are several couples in various states of disarray, tongue dueling and nearly humping one another for any random sentient passing by to see. The Coruscant Security Force has given up trying to run them off; not only are they persistent in staying but they draw other youth; youngsters who have lots of cash.
I lift an eyebrow slightly as we take another turn down a short, narrow alley, reaching a dead end.
Then, I smirk as an idea occurs to me.
Turning to her, I pull her close, smiling as her nose bumps mine.
"What are you doing?" she hisses, trying to push away from me.
"I saw this in an old film once," I say casually, pressing my lips to the skin behind her ear. "The pursuers always run pass when the protagonists are making out. You're a film buff, you know all about it. Besides," I remind her with a smirk, "you took my dare."
Without allowing her to say another word, I grasp her face firmly in my palms and give her red, delicious lips a slow, sensual lick. Her eyes widen at my bold action, and her arms flail for a minute before grasping my arms tightly.
I close my eyes as I begin to systematically attack her mouth, moving my lips to each corner of the opening.
She gasps at my actions and it's all I need to thrust my tongue inside her warm, wet hole. Her eyes are fluttering as I suck on her tongue, causing her to strain against me, her body shuddering even as she tenses in my arms. I pull back, enjoying the surge of lust that spikes through me, of the heat I feel radiating off of her body.
"Amidala," I purr, pulling back without breaking skin contact, running my lips across her cheek. "You taste so good… like almonds," I whisper against her mouth. I am cognizant of Sabers running pass, ignoring what is just one of the many young and horny couples making out.
"You feel good too," I continue, moving my hands down her body and giving her ass a tight squeeze, pushing her against me in the process. She moans breathlessly, "So soft and plush."
I smirk as she clings to me mindlessly, her eyes wide as saucers, fighting the sensations that are surely overwhelming her.
It's as I said before: this is much too easy.
I frown slightly as I suddenly feel her stand on her tiptoes, grasping me by the neck and pulling me down closer to her.
"Okay," she gasps, "you were right. You… you know what you're doing with the kissing thing."
I smile smugly; it's always wonderful to hear a woman actually admit that she is wrong.
"But you forgot one thing," she continues, as she pulls backs slightly to look into my eyes, "yourself."
My eyebrow arches."Oh?" I ask scornfully, softly, "is that so?"
"It is," she says, breathing hard, and I can feel her breath against my lips, "you think you're so smart, so irresistible. But you're just like every other man, ruled by your dick."
I start when her lips suddenly press delicately against my skin and I clench my teeth, frowning as I feel myself harden.
"Oh," she says coyly, "I think you like that. Skywalker Jr. Just stood at attention."
"You bitch," I murmur as I feel her tongue experimentally dart out and touch my neck. "You think you can best me?"
"I don't think," she whispers, "I know. I told you before that a look would be all you'd get. But why leave it there when I can torture you so much more by giving you a taste of what you'll never have?"
My body clenches even harder at her words, her duplicity. Force, I'm going to fuck this woman into oblivion.
"How does it feel?" she asks softly, nuzzling my neck, "to be beaten at your own game? Because you see," she continues, pressing her slim body against me, "politics is more than being able to talk, it's about being able to act as well, to battle your way to victory, to step out of your comfort zone to get what you want."
"It amuses me that you think I'm easy to manipulate, it's so obvious that you think so," she says with acid sweetness. "But I think you've learned your lesson now."
She pulls away from me, her lips twisted into a smug smile, her chest heaving from exertion.
I study her swollen lips for a moment and shake my head slowly. "I have learned a lesson, Amidala, but not the one you intended," I murmur, my arms tightening around her like a vice, not allowing her to move away.
"I always knew that you were different from the others, special, and now I can see how very true that is," I whisper, staring into her eyes, being so close as to see the gold flecks there. "You have thrown down the gauntlet and now, I have picked it up. You're mine now, Amidala. Mine."
I hold her for a moment longer before allowing her to move, her nose flaring as she finally breaks away from me, "I think it's amusing that you think I would belong to you," she says scornfully.
I smile and this time, it's a tender as I gently touch her cheek. "It's not me that's decided that, Amidala, it's you."
She frowns, stepping away from me. "What are you on about?"
"You see me as worthy," I say softly, allowing her the distance. "You allowed me to touch you, to hold you, to ravish you in public," I wave around us, indicating how anyone could have stumbled upon us. "You would never have let just any man touch you, you haven't allowed any man to touch you. But you let me and you did it because you realized that you've finally met your match, an equal. You know that you belong to me."
She stares at me for a moment before shaking her head. "That's rubbish," she murmurs, "and people don't really talk like that."
"I don't think it is, and you know it," I respond, ignoring her last statement. "But it's okay if you resist me, it's nothing more than I expect. It's what I want, even."
She gives me a look that clearly says she thinks I'm a lunatic. "Well, if it eases your mind to think so," she says, rolling her eyes, "then very well. Now, if we're done dodging your paparazzi, I'd like to be returned to the Senate now."
"Sure," I say cheerfully. "But you might want to fix your hair… and clothes."
Looking down at the perilous state she was in, she blushes hotly, turning away from me to fix her clothes and hair. "This won't happen again," she says stubbornly, throwing a glare over her shoulder. "It was, as I said, a demonstration."
"If it behooves you to think so," I reply with a laugh. "You may."
She bristles at my words but says nothing, choosing instead to turn around and flounce off.
Grinning I follow her.
It takes no time at all to return to the hover car, Sabers having long since lost of us.
We are silent on the way back to the Senate and as soon as we arrive, she leaves without another word.
My smile fades as I watch her leave, it being replaced with a calculating stare.
If there were any doubts before, any hesitation about her, there are none now.
Padmé Amidala is mine. She belongs to me.
She is tempting and fiery and oh so very interesting. She will be a fitting consort for the ruler of the galaxy, one that will be able to make intelligent decisions in my absence but will happily and willingly relinquish all control to me when necessary.
I turn, making my way to the afternoon senatorial session.
She will love me, of course and then her will, her desires, will belong to me. She has told me what she wants, what she longs for and I will give it to her, because despite all of her objections and bluster, Padmé Amidala wants someone to conquer her, that much became obvious today. Even now I remember the look in her eyes when I claimed her, when I called her mine.
I saw apprehension, I saw desire, but most of all, I saw excitement.
Nodding to the senators already in the room, I take my place at the table.
By the time I am done, Amidala will see, speak and hear only me. She will breath me; I will be her everything.
It will be a challenge, a true task, but one I am heartily looking forward to.
A smile twitches at my lips.
Amidala does not yet understand what she's gotten herself into, what it means to belong to a Sith, but soon, she will and it will be my pleasure to enlighten her.
End of chapter 13: Please review!
Chapter 14: Close Calls
A/N: Okay, there were some questions about the last chapter: Obi-Wan didn't recognize Vader because Vader had a heavy cloak on and he never lowered the hood. Another question: Why didn't Amidala tell Obi-Wan about the changing yellow eyes? First of all, they might be friends but they both have busy schedules, so they don't see one another as often as they'd like. I figured she'd likely forget something as insignificant as that. I call it insignificant because, remember, Amidala works closely with many different species. To see such a thing is probably commonplace for her. That's my reasoning, anyway.
One more, someone said they felt this was moving slowly and… you're absolutely right! ^_^
I really dislike movies and shows where I have no idea why two people fell in love (Twilight) and I don't want that to happen here. By the end of this story, I want both of these characters to have personality and I want everyone to know why they fell in love with one another. So… while things, as you see, are starting to heat up, there needed to be a build up. Okie? I hope that clears up any confusion.
A/N2: Kudos to anyone who caught my "10 Things I Hate About You" line. If you haven't watched that movie, do so. It's awesome.