Title: Breath of Change
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Yes that's right: Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Obi Wan, Qui Gon, and the rest of the Star Wars crew are the property of George Lucas, and do not belong to me. However, my words do. So please, if you feel like you're just going to die if you can't archive this on your site, just ask permission first. I'm sure I'd be happy to donate it. ;)
Author's Note: My first Amidala/Anakin piece. Fluff galore.
Dedication: To Joshin, a fellow fan, who always made me feel like a Queen.
Breath of Change
By Sarie
*~*~*
Amidala tilted her head slightly to the side, carefully taking in her own pallid reflection as she gazed thoughtfully into the ornate looking glass. The ceaseless flow of senate hearings had clearly begun to take their toll. At least her ivory, cream like make-up would conceal the fatigue lines, she mused wearily. The Queen exhaled slowly, and turned away from the mirror, straightening her shoulders.
It was days like this one, where the petite sovereign related more to ordinary Padme' rather than the royal majesty of Naboo. Though her position as a monarch had accustomed her to these frequent trips to Coruscant, she still found the teeming city-planet somewhat stifling. What had begun with an initial voting procedure had branched off into multiple sessions of debate. Preferring always to work hands on with her subjects, Amidala felt very limited by the Senate's resources. There was little she could do to serve her people while being bogged down by the pointless bickering.
Palpatine, however, had his own theories. The newest chancellor was now testily suggesting that his term was being deliberately sabotaged, and that there were various systems looking to undermine the Republic in favor of self-rule. His replacement, in the politician's opinion, would prove to be an easily corrupted mole, interested only in the prosperity of his own career.
Just a few more days, she reminded herself, her mood lifting. Just a few more days and I can see Anakin again. A pleasant warmth spread over her as the realization settled in. It had been too long since she had last seen her Jedi apprentice. Anakin was more than just a friend to her; he was kindred spirit. One who had seen her through times of utmost hardship, brightening the dark and melancholy days of her reign with a simple, charming smile. He had come a long way from his boyhood years of conflict and confusion, and had ripened with maturity and manhood.
This had been their longest separation yet, an entire thirteen months apart. Her young Skywalker had been away facing the Jedi trials, and the age-old tradition had demanded such a grave concentration, that it isolated him from any other possible distractions. But she had received a message from Anakin's Jedi master, Obi Wan Kenobi, that the process would soon be complete and that a short visit to Naboo could be arranged while the council reviewed Anakin's results. The news had found her exhausted and unnerved from the current political squabbles, but had almost instantly reinstated her hope.
The senate might be crumbling all around her, but at least Anakin was coming home. That information alone somehow made everything right with the galaxy, and Amidala felt her resolve strengthening. She would endure whatever lie ahead, and come what may, she would find a way to utilize it for the good of her kingdom.
"Eirtae'," she spoke up in a clear, calm tone.
Her beloved handmaiden stepped forth, sapphire skirts rustling, to the call of her queen. "Yes, your majesty?"
"You may tell Sabe' that I'm ready to be made up," Amidala told the other woman, favoring her with a wry smile. "The arena await us."
*~*~*
Looking out into the dark breadth of stars never made Anakin feel small and insignificant as it did some people. Quite the contrary, it gave him a rush of empowerment to know that he was soaring among these giants, searching for his place in the universe. As a child he had often stared up towards Tatooine's night skies, hungry for the knowledge contained in those heavens. For the adventure a slave would never know. And now here he was, a padawan learner, soon to be Jedi Knight. If his trials had gone as successfully as planned.
Now that he had finished the last trial, all he looked forward to was seeing Amidala again. It had been too long since he had been the cause of her musical laughter, the recipient of her dazzling smile. Even though it seemed as if he would always only be that endearing nine year she had befriended so many years ago, just being in her presence made it all worth it. Whether or not Amidala recognized the depth of his devotion to her was irrelevant. Anakin closed his eyes and released a contented sigh. He had her friendship for now, and eventually, he promised himself, eventually he would win her entirely.
"Very contemplative today, aren't we?" The voice at his shoulder startled him through his meditative state. Anakin's eyes flew open to find his instructor and guide, Obi Wan Kenobi, peering curiously over at him.
"Blazes, Obi Wan…" The apprentice muttered, a slight frown rippling across his features. "I really hate it when you do that."
"You should have sensed me the moment I walked through the door." The Jedi master shook his head but held off on the accompanying reprimand. Clearly the boy had something on his mind, and in light of the recent tests he had just undergone, Obi Wan could excuse the slip of concentration. "Is something wrong? Are you worried about your performance on the trials?"
"Actually, no," the eighteen-year-old flashed a broad grin. "I made it. I just know I did. It took a lot of hard work and lecturing," he looked pointedly to Obi Wan as he emphasized the last word. "But I think I'm there."
"Don't get too starry-eyed yet," his master admonished him with a stern glance. "The council still has to inspect your progress, and I'll tell you right now Anakin, they don't view this matter lightly."
"I know, I know." The sandy-haired apprentice rolled his eyes with a wave of dismissal. "But come on, don't I have a right to be relieved? Now that the whole 'rite of passage' thing is over, I can finally stop to catch my breath."
Obi Wan couldn't help but crack an amused smile. His pupil's reckless eagerness reminded him so much of himself at that age. Qui Gon would be pleased; I'm using all of the same lines he did… "Yes. You certainly have earned the right to some time off," The elder relented, kindly. "You've done very well, Anakin. Your skills are improving immensely. I know that would have made Qui Gon very happy."
Anakin leaned forward, beaming roguishly. "So are you saying that you're proud of me?"
"Well, there's no need to go fishing for compliments," Obi Wan countered teasingly, mussing the boy's mop of hair. "And yes Anakin, I am proud of you. Which is why I've arranged for you to attend an upcoming diplomatic function—"
"Awww, tell me you didn't." Anakin interrupted, his smirk quickly melting into dismay. "I told you-- all I want to do, is spend a few quiet days with 'Dala…"
"…On Naboo." Kenobi finished, arching a brow at the other's impatience. "I trust that is acceptable to you?"
His wayward charge leaned back casually against the ship's wall, an impish smile triggering the appearance of dimples. "You had me there for a minute. I thought I was going to be escorting some bureaucrat's daughter or something."
"You might still have to," Obi Wan couldn't help but add. "Do recall what a Nubian festivity usually entails. I'm certain it will be quite a homecoming."
*~*~*
"There," Rabe' regarded her creation with a perfectionist's scrutiny. "You're finished. Although you should allow the mixture to dry before you move around too much."
Amidala examined her elaborate hairstyle with silent approval, awestruck by the flawless arrangement. Though her regal look often favored smooth, pinned back tresses, Rabe' had chosen something altogether different for the occasion. Her deep, brown locks hung in an intricate array of full curls and dripped of precious Veda pearls. The effect was breathtaking. How her handmaiden's skilled fingers never slipped during such a painstaking process was a constant wonder to her.
"It's exquisite," Amidala complimented the other's artistry, admiringly. She patted the girl's hand to express her fond gratitude. "You truly have outdone yourself, Rabe'."
Rabe' added a final coat of hair treatment to ensure that the embellishments remained in place. "I assumed you wanted to look your best for the young Jedi," she remarked in an overly innocent manner.
Amidala chuckled lightly, thankful that her pearly make-up hid what very well could have been a blush. "I doubt very much that Ani pays such close attention to the ornamentation of my hair."
"I don't know, your Highness," Rabe's eyes were alight with a mischievous glow. "He's not exactly a little boy anymore, is he? No longer our little Ani…"
"I imagine he's grown quite handsome by now," Yane' commented with a knowing smile. She carefully smoothed out the folds of Amidala's silken, high-necked gown. "He must be nearly nineteen by now."
"Eighteen." Amidala corrected matter-a-factly, straightening her garment's stiff collar. "And still our very dear friend, who surely doesn't deserve to be the subject of such gossip."
"Precisely. Now enough of this nonsense," the ever-sensible Sabe' interjected, herding the others out of the chamber. "Shall we give the queen a moment's rest before the banquet?" Glancing over her shoulder she exchanged a secretive smile with her ruler before slipping out the door. "You look radiant. I had a feeling I wouldn't be playing decoy tonight."
Amidala shook her head at the suggestive statement, amused with her attendants' behavior. It was the collective inclination of both her handmaidens and the populace that the she find herself an eligible king. Even Palpatine had expressed his hopefulness that she might "one day look to the desires of her own heart". What no one seemed able to grasp was, that she and Anakin had a rare breed of friendship, one that was fulfilling enough it need never be complicated by matters of love. Her Jedi apprentice was of course, very dear to her, and that was all she needed for now. At least, that's what Amidala kept telling herself.
Pensively fingering a chestnut ringlet, she reconsidered Sabe's last words. Perhaps her friend would have the chance to perform tonight after all.
*~*~*
As Anakin and Obi Wan stepped into the grand banquet hall, a swell of heavenly music greeted them, announcing their arrival to the gathered crowd. The masses burst into enthusiastic applause and from the great platform, Chancellor Palpatine gestured for silence.
"It is with joyful hearts that we receive Naboo's champions," the suave politician recited, his aged countenance marked with an amiable smile. "And humbly prepare this meager feast in their honour, in remembrance of their great deeds which saved our fair nation some nine years ago. I bid you welcome Obi Wan Kenobi, and to you, Anakin Skywalker."
"Meager, huh?" Anakin repeated with obvious incredulous. Whoever chose to describe one of Naboo's celebrations as 'meager' surely had a puzzling understanding of the word. The elegant marble room was adorned with brilliant silver decor and the scent of fragrant blooms and exotic plants lingered on air. The opalescent sheen of starlight filtered in through the domed glass skylight, lending an air of enchantment to the already dramatic lighting scheme. And overhead, hung fist-sized orbs of light, their dusky-lilac forms shifting every few minutes to create a new pattern of design.
The two Jedi acknowledged the other attendees with somewhat awkward smiles, and allowed themselves to be escorted to their places at the head table. For Obi Wan, the lavish display was slightly unnerving, and though it was instinctual for him to be uncomfortable with such opulence, he shook it off. The Jedi race believed in maintaining what was needed only for survival, and looked down upon any ambition for one's own personal gain. Such a feast was unnecessary, but because the Naboo were so insistent to give it, courtesy demanded that he comply. For the sake of his hosts, the Jedi master would endeavor to enjoy himself.
Skywalker, on the other hand, found the colorful sights and sounds to be a blessed breath of change. After being confined for six months and kept apart from any other human contact other than his guides, the apprentice was hungry for the sensations the rest of the galaxy had to offer. Seated at his place of honour, he found much with which to gratify his senses. He watched as the guests chatted good-naturedly to each other, surrounded by small, cascading fountains, which trickled merrily from the center of each table. All in attendance were garbed in harmonious shades and styles, a true testament to Naboo's love affair with culture and artistic refinement.
There was movement atop the platform, and a reverent silence fell over the room as Amidala appeared. Anakin felt his jaw drop, as the true splendor of the evening presented herself. An angel.
She was cloaked in a long gown of the deepest cobalt blue that trailed down towards the ground in delicate, petaled layers. The striking stole she wore over it, the embroidery of which glistened like spun gold, offset the rich hues of the frock. Flowing oversleeves draped gracefully to either side of her, giving the appearance of folded wings. The Queen looked like an ethereal creature not of their world, and it was several elated moments before Anakin realized he had been gawking.
"Greetings," she hailed her subjects with courtly poise, handmaidens flanking behind her. "I wish to thank you all for attending this evening; your gratitude and support of our guests is admirable." Her vigilant gaze flickered to Obi Wan, and then Anakin, a light smile parting her painted lips. "At last our friends have returned to us, to grace our people with their guiding presence. Let us all bestow upon them the welcome they truly deserve."
Anakin grinned back in return, his pulse racing with sheer delight. Apparently, his deficient memory had failed to serve him correctly, as she was, by far, lovelier than he had imagined. The opinion seemed to be unanimous. Even Obi Wan seemed to be taken with her eloquence, an appreciative smile softening his expression.
With a final glance of mutual affection, her Highness guiltily tore her eyes from them and relinquished the podium to another. "Governor, if you please."
Anakin recognized the finely clothed elder as the refined Ardeth Toia, Theed's distinguished governor. Surprisingly enough, the statesman had changed very little over the past few years. Toia succeeded his predecessor, Sio Bibble, who had served for an additional two terms following the trade federation conflict. Overwhelming popularity had kept him in office for what would prove to be the longest running governship Naboo's history.
"On behalf of the Advisory Council, I would like also to extend a gracious salutation to our esteemed guests." Toia began cordially, the picture of sophistication in his russet robes and fashionably groomed beard. "As we approach the ninth anniversary of Naboo's triumph over tyranny, allow this celebration to serve as another reminder of the great price of freedom. Not only do we honour our returning heroes tonight, but also all of the brave souls who fought so gallantly to restore our great civilization to the independence into which she was born. Let us all reflect upon those who fell in the line of duty during that fateful hour, and keep their dear memory close to our hearts."
His solemn hazel eyes clouded over with emotion as he produced a goblet of champagne and raised it high. "And so, a toast to us all. To the light of freedom in the face of persecution, and to those who so valiantly defend it." The crowd, in response, reached for their own glasses and followed suit.
Toia drank deeply and regarded the guests with a satisfied smile. "With that said, let us commence with the festivities. Please," he instructed politely, "enjoy the evening."
In truth, they were happy to oblige. The meal was beyond compare, consisting of all of the rich entrees and sweet delicacies that had been absent from Anakin's diet for the better part of a year. From the corner of his eye, he could see Obi Wan grimacing at him as he accepted a third meat pie from the platter of hors d'oeuvres. Ignoring his elder, the Jedi trainee munched away happily, eyes continually wandering in the direction of the Queen. She was conversing quietly with several council members at her table, a brief display of trepidation stealing across her face. Anakin observed her with a frown, concern welling up within him. Though he had learned of the calamity that now enveloped the Imperial Senate, he had hoped that Amidala would be able to set aside her fears for at least the first night of his visit. Clearly, that would not be the case.
Gazing dejectedly down at his unfinished dessert, Anakin felt a pang of guilt nag at him. Amidala had the fate of a nation weighing upon her shoulders, and instead of assuming an attitude of sympathetic understanding, he had resorted to infantile self-pity. Certainly it was selfish of him to demand her attention all to himself, but yet, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. Master Kenobi had informed him of the steady stream of hearings that had detained the majority of public officials and planetary monarchs on Courscant. Surely it wouldn't be long before the call of duty insisted upon her return.
The banquet's fifth course came and went, closing with a tart berry custard. Anakin, already suffering boredom, turned the smooth substance over with his spoon, fidgeting absent-mindedly. His attention fell on the baroque glass doors in the far-left corner of the room, an escape, which inevitably led to the palace grounds. His blue-gray orbs quickly assessed the situation, then returned to Amidala, only to discover that she had vanished, along with her handmaidens. Anakin's heart sank at her departure, a lump of despondency lodging itself within his throat. There was but one option left.
Kenobi had just concluded a rather dull exchange with a resident nobleman, when he detected what could be considered an even more monotonous threat. "Oh dear," the Jedi Master hissed to his student, a look of uncharacteristic dread blossoming in his expression. "It seems Boss Nass and Jar Jar have spotted us. Between the two of them, they'll be talking our ears off all night…" He looked over to his friend for a mutual agreement, but found the young man to be conspicuously missing. Cunning little sneak… Obi Wan congratulated the other with a grudging envy as the two Gungans closed in on him.
*~*~*
The blast of crisp, night air against his face was a welcome release from the crowded dinning hall. Anakin closed his eyes against the light breeze, flavored with cool beads of moisture from the encompassing waterfalls, and savored the sweetness of solitude. He had, of course, appreciated the magnificence of the banquet held in his honour, but nearing the end of the decadent feast, had begun to tire of the draining social engagement. And as if the occasion wasn't enough in itself, immediately after the dinner party, a reception would follow. To think that Amidala dealt with equally exhausting formalities every day was mind boggling.
He pulled his Jedi robes closer as a damp chill settled upon his limbs and started off in the direction of the royal gardens. They too, Anakin noticed as he came across the immaculately kept shrubbery, reflected Naboo's desire to uphold all that was timeless and lovely. This particular garden was an oasis of grandeur and grace; a vivid tapestry of colorful blossoms, shaded by tall, flowering trees which wove a secluded arc about the premises. He ran a thumb over the velvet petal of one of the night blooms, smiling faintly. Such a place would have better suited the gentle disposition of his mother, unlike that of the blowing sands of dismal Tatooine. What he wouldn't give to have her with him now.
A shuffle of footsteps alerted him to the arrival of another presence, and he spun around to face the newcomer, squinting expectantly through the darkness. Upon recognition of the familiar figure, he felt himself start with surprise.
"Ami—Padme'," He corrected himself swiftly, glancing briefly to the guards posted nearby. "What are you doing here?"
She offered a disarming smile as she approached him; hands folded neatly in front of her. "The Queen requested that I find you and apologize for her absence."
Amidala, in all of her eminence, was indeed stunning to behold, but it had been Padme', with her simple elegance and pure spirit that he had first been drawn to. Now, clothed plainly in emerald robes, he felt she had never looked more beautiful.
Once she had safely reached his side, Anakin addressed her in low tones, "I thought you were entertaining dignitaries at the reception…"
"I am," a conspiratorial smile flitted across her lips. "Or rather, Sabe' is. She knows I have a full day tomorrow, so she let me slip away early."
"Isn't that a bit tricky though?" He questioned bemusedly, his brain still reeling from the enchanting way she carried herself. "What if she says the wrong thing or accidentally insults them somehow?"
"At times it can be," Amidala nodded in thoughtful confirmation. "But Sabe' is well versed in etiquette, and at a social gathering such as this, she need only be engaging and smile every so often. Besides," she cast a final glance back towards the glowing palace lights. "Once the dessert wine is served, they will pay her little notice."
"That must come in handy at times." The Jedi mused aloud, as if pondering the number of possibilities. "Wish I had a second one of me."
Her lush mouth quirked with the beginnings of laughter. "I can't picture the universe with more than one of you," she quipped, knowingly. "Imagine the chaos."
Anakin made a face at her, secretly relishing the lighthearted banter. "Thanks a lot," he jutted out a lower lip, pouting in mock insult.
Still chuckling, she looped her arm through his as they casually began to stroll the garden grounds. Though comfortable with the tranquil silence, Anakin felt the irrepressible need to break it. There was so much to say; years of pent up emotion and undeclared endearment welled up inside, urging him forward.
"You didn't have to put up such a fuss for us tonight, 'Dala." He told her warmly, pleased with the prospect of having her all to himself. "I hope you know that we don't expect that."
"I know," Amidala reminded him, dismissing all further attempts at modesty. "But such an event was justified this time. I have not seen you in over a year, and you did just complete your trials." She placed a slender hand on his, the innocent gesture inducing a tingling sensation within him. "You won't hold it against me, will you?"
The milky rays of moonlight did nothing to dull the ardent intensity in his eyes. "I wouldn't hold anything against you. Ever."
"That's very comforting to know," she offered a sly smile, the kind of smirk most people would not anticipate from a regal lady of her bearing. "Especially considering I might attempt equally tedious surprises in the future."
By her tone, Anakin knew she spoke only in jest, yet he still felt the need to clarify. "Hey, I never said it was tedious," he corrected, hastily. "I had a great time, really."
"Really?" The queen regarded him with mixed parts amusement and curiosity, "Then why are you out here all alone, wandering the gardens?"
Anakin grinned smartly at her, a shrug lifting his shoulders. "Let's just say I don't have your social graces."
"I gather the study of courtly politics was not included in your Jedi training," Amidala reflected playfully.
"Lightsaber duels, I can handle. Levitating stuff-- no problem." He gave an exaggerated shiver, as if struck with a most fearful notion. "But diplomatic negotiations…aristocrats…politicians; can't help you there. That's where I have far too little patience." He fingered the cool hilt of his ancient weapon, which hung ever-faithfully at his utility belt. "Unfortunately, not all things can be solved with a saber, or even good intentions." The Jedi glanced back up at her, and she could see the undying admiration unfold within his sincere, blue eyes. "Which is why it's a relief to have people like you, 'Dala. Leaders willing to make a difference."
She felt a cold lump lodge itself in her throat at the blind praise. It certainly did not seem, at least to her, that she had done anything recently to benefit Naboo in such a way. "You must tell me all about yourself now," Amidala suggested, hastening to change the subject. She did not entreat Sabe's diversion merely to discuss politics with her dear friend. "What you've been doing this past year."
Anakin puffed out his chest proudly, a comical attempt at heroism that only inspired more laughter on her part. "Oh, you know. Jedi stuff," He announced, annunciating the term as if it were a covert matter of the utmost importance. "Battling evil and looking dashing. That sort of thing."
She chided him with a light elbow to the ribs, "I think Obi Wan has afforded you too much wine this evening."
Though clearly at his expense, he chuckled at the witticism. She was wrong, however. Instructed in proper temperament, Anakin had wisely chosen to avoid most of the catered intoxicants, believing that a Jedi's true integrity could be found with a clear, unclouded mind. No, it wasn't the wine that was making him bolder by the minute…
"The last year has passed like a dream. You know the kind where you keep expecting to wake up?" He looked to her for understanding and she nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I can't believe I've come this far, that I've accomplished so much. And with my trials nearly finished, I'm on my way to becoming a true Jedi Knight." A wistful poignancy flickered in his eyes. "It's all so incredible. I just sometimes wish Kitster and my mother could be have been here to see it."
Amidala clutched his arm tighter, leaning in closer to offer her support. "I know they would have been proud of you, jut as I am." She told him earnestly, the bittersweet irony of it all resonating with her. The pain of being separated from the love and acceptance on one's family was all too real for the two of them. Bred for her role as Naboo's sovereign, she had been required to leave her parents and humble village behind at a young age, introduced instead to a routine of formal, and often strict, political training. But while her sacrifice had been for the good of her people, poor Anakin had not deserved the life of bondage both he and his mother had been thrust into.
"How I've missed you, Ani," she murmured, resting a cheek against his firm shoulder. "You've been away so long."
A sardonic smile broke across his attractive visage. "I'll never outgrow that nickname, will I?"
"Does it bother you to be called that?"
"Not when it's coming from you," he acknowledged truthfully, his unwavering gaze piercing right through her.
She felt the warmth rising to her flesh, her heart fluttering with nervous anticipation and she mentally scolded herself for such foolishness. Anakin was her friend—should only be a friend—and far too young for her. It would be a breach in protocol to take advantage of him like this, to give into her own girlish longings.
Smiling through her fear, she planted a chaste kiss against his sculpted cheek. "Well then, my dear Ani, I will see you and Obi Wan for breakfast tomorrow. Goodnight."
Anakin's brow knit in bewilderment and he caught hold of her hand, fretful all at once. "Have I said something to upset you, 'Dala?"
"Of course not. I just have an early conference with Chancellor Palpatine, and I imagine that you must be exhausted after such a long journey." Amidala gave his hand a brief squeeze and withdrew from him. "I thought it rude to keep you."
"I'm not tired, really," He assured her with a childlike perplexity that nearly broke her heart. "I…I've just waited so long to see you. To spend time with you…"
"And we will," she reaffirmed the heartfelt promise. "Tomorrow."
"No," Anakin persisted, his courage gaining momentum. "I don't mean with Master Kenobi or the Chancellor." He took in a deep breath, closing the space between them. "I mean alone, just you and me."
"Anakin, I…"
"Amidala, you must know by now. I mean, you have to at least have some idea of how I feel about you." Desperately, he clutched her shoulders and drew her nearer, knowing full well that such a brash action could result in his imprisonment. If she willed it. "I know I'm not much right now, but someday I will be. I may still be that little slave boy in your eyes, but I've always loved you, 'Dala. Even then, I loved you—and I know that it'll be that way for the rest of my life."
"Anakin…" Her practiced diplomacy faltered, and she blinked back her shock, suddenly incapable of speech.
"Please tell me—tell me that I at least have a chance with you." He pleaded with her, his impassioned blue orbs beseeching. "Maybe not now, but in a few years. Promise me that one day you'll see me as I am—as Anakin. As a man who's in love with you. I'll live on it until then…"
Even though he was appealing to Amidala, the majesty of Naboo, it was the girl Padme' who answered his call. Reacting for the first time by instincts she hadn't been coached or trained in, Amidala reached up and brushed a hand to his face. "I do see you, Anakin." She told him, her lower lip quavering at the declaration. "I've seen you for a long time now."
Overcome with relief, he pulled her clumsily into his arms and held her against his frantically beating heart. He could feel her letting go, her body melting into the comfort of his embrace. Tears sprung up behind her sorrowful eyes, threatening to storm her defenses, and she clung to him tightly to him, desperately, willing her body not to tremble so.
Her small frame gave an involuntary shudder, and immediately he recognized the change in her, as if she had become an extension of him. "'Dala?" He inquired tentatively, uncertain. "Are you all right?"
"I…I don't know…" her strangled reply, a sob-infused laugh, sent a wave of worry coursing through him. His warrior queen sounded so far off…vulnerable; felt fragile and fleeting in his arms.
Plagued by concern, Anakin pulled back and held her at arm's length, his gaze burdened with apprehension. "Amidala," the way her name rolled off of his tongue, so full of affection—as if he had all of galaxy's faith in her. "What's wrong? Tell me."
He watched as a flood of conflicting emotions waged a visible battle across her features. It wasn't that she was reluctant to confide in him, he could sense as much, but rather Amidala was ashamed to admit to what she perceived to be a weakness.
"I just feel so overwhelmed. Palpatine is calling for the dissolution of the Senate. He feels that it is no longer capable of justice," she explained dully. "That it resides only in petty power struggles. There are have been arguments for a single, totalitarian power."
"What do you think?"
"I'm not sure of anything anymore." Amidala confessed frankly, "I fear there may be some truth to his accusation. It has been some time since we have been able to achieve real progress with the Senate, a harsh fact I learned long ago during the trade federation conflict." She heaved a breathy sigh, more troubled than he had ever seen her. "But still, I could never agree to dictatorship, no matter who the authority was handed to. It demeans everything our Republic stands for, and power that absolute could be easily corrupted." She paused, flustered, wanting nothing more than to retreat to the solace of his touch.
Her fists clenched at her sides as she battled with her turmoil; the inescapable desires that each competed for gratification. "I'm so afraid. Afraid of being weak, afraid of failing my people, of ignoring my own heart…I want so much to be strong."
Tenderly lifting her chin, he met her watery gaze. "'Dala, you're the strongest person I know. The bravest."
She avoided his eyes; a fresh flurry of tears blurring her vision. "I don't feel very brave."
Anakin awarded her a patient smile. "Even those most brave are a little scared sometimes." He took her hands in his, bringing them to his chest, "But I believe in you and I'll do whatever I can to be help you through this. To be there for you."
The queen bowed her head slightly, as if in repentance for some grave dishonour. "I'm sorry to trouble you with all of this. You've just returned from a year's worth of labors and already I'm weighing you down with my problems."
"Listen to me," he urged her, his tone edged with fervor. "It's no trouble. You've never been anything but a joy to me. Understand?"
Amidala nodded, wordlessly, "There might be something you can do…"
"Name it."
"Hold me?" She shifted nervously, fixing him with shy, infinitely brown eyes. "Help me to forget…just for a little while?"
A broad smile alighted his expression at the request. "Always." Anakin whispered a reassurance, his breath warm against her cheek as he pressed close, lips drawing her in. "Always."
*~*~*
Fin
~Questions, comments, and criticisms are all welcome. E-mail me at SarieGirl1@aol.com~