Deceptions
Chapter 1
Anakin stood in a corner, nursing his third drink of the evening. He rarely drank at all in public but tonight proved to be an exception. Unlike Obi-wan, who could drink like a Nubian Scalefish and still wield his light saber with deadly accuracy, Anakin had no head for alcohol and he already had an unpleasant buzz on. He was dressed not in his Jedi robes, but as his fellow soldiers, Jedi and civilian alike. The uniforms were Republic utility gray tunics with black dress slacks and boots, a small capelet hanging over the right shoulder. On the left breast, an assortment of coloured ribbons denoting awards and rank, including a silver set of wings with a crown above, signifying his recent promotion to Wing Captain. An entire division of the Republic fleet was now under his command and yet he felt no real satisfaction in this fact. He had lost most of his taste for command at Salliche along with so many of his comrades in arms. Still, he would serve, perhaps not so much for the Jedi or the Republic and their dying ways but for Padmé and the promise of a new way of life after the wars were past. The Chancellor had hinted that many new workings and changes would be implicated soon and, despite all the Council's misgivings and protests, that at last there would be a place for him, if he wanted it.
A server droid came by with a tray of cocktails and after hurriedly throwing back the remnants of his drink, Anakin picked up a double draft of Alderanian whisky. Sensing Obi-wan's disapproval, he looked up to meet the Master's simmering look. He smiled and raised the glass to Obi-wan and drained half the glass in one gulp. To hell with what the Masters thought, they'd already filled their quota of public dressing down for the evening in an interrupted lecture on attachments. Obi-wan, self righteous in his freshly cleaned Jedi robes, had started in on his relationship with Padmé almost from the instant they had met this evening but the Chancellor (thankfully) had pulled Anakin into a carefully orchestrated press conference which was mercifully free of embarrassing questions. The Chancellor had been a steadfast advocate of his as of late. When it had come to this 'public award ceremony, the Council, having used the "A Jedi serves" lecture to unsuccessfully counter the Senate's request had seemed to single Anakin out with a vengeance in it's attitude of 'this is not the way of the Jedi'. Was it because Gelehrter and Padeiro Mestre had attained full Master status? Because of his own past maverick ways? He shook his head, which already had gone from the buzz to a slight spin, almost imperceptibly. No need to think about that now. What was done was done, and there was nothing he could do to change any of it anyways. He took a deep breath and refocused his thoughts, momentarily chasing the insipient intoxication away.
Padmé was here somewhere, looking almost as beautiful as she had all those years ago. There! Across the expanse of the Grand Ballroom she stood, resplendent in an off the shoulder gown and chatting with a humanoid Senator of some sort, Anakin took another deep breath and savored the moment, where he could safely take in her visage from a distance. He started at the bottom, where the gown's diaphanous skirting started off as white and as the eye traveled up, the skirting became more opaque with shades of indigo. The corset that embraced her slender hips continued this colour scheme in reverse with a rich brocaded velvet. Her hair, instead of being dressed in the normally severe Senatorial styles she had favored, was swept up and under in the sea shell style she had worn on the day they had first kissed.
This evening, she had blushed when he had arrived and had asked him shyly if he still found her beautiful and Anakin had swept her off of her feet, carrying her back into the bedroom. He was aware of the security cameras but really didn't care at that point, too wrapped up in the moment. Halfway to the bedroom, Padmé had reluctantly pointed out that if they were to fail to arrive on time that undoubtedly both Jedi and Senate Security would come looking for them. They had no choice but to leave right away, however, almost as an after thought, she had coyly mentioned that there was always her office once the formalities were seen too...
Anakin had needed no further prompting and they had arrived together under a swarm of intergalactic paparazzi. Anakin had flinched and growled under his breath but Padmé had handled things with her usual grace and decorum, winging their way deftly through the crowds and safely inside where the reporters had been kept at a discreet distance. Now, although she was engaged in conversation, Anakin could feel her discomfort and longing to escape even from this vantage point and decided that now was as good as a time as ever, to claim his first dance of the evening.