And the Sweetest Kiss
A/N: So I seem to be doing a lot of 'post RotS' writing. Hmmm... Anyway, I wrote this while listening to Maroon 5's "Sweetest Goodbye"; it inspired me. That's probably why the titles are so similar. This is NOT a song fic, though. :) I am no good at dialoge. For this, I apologize. :D Please review, even if you hated the fic! Reviews make me happy. ;)
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Padme stood at the large glass window, watching thick grey smoke rise from the spires of the Jedi Temple. Her stomach churned with nausiating worry, hunger, and a new life. She had been standing at the window for what felt like hours, since the first sign of smoke. Her eyes were red from fatigue and straining to see tiny figures leaving the Temple. All she could think about was the last thing she wanted in her mind, the last stress she needed: was Anakin all right?
He was a skilled Jedi, this she knew, but he was also arrogant and very stubborn. He would not retreat without a fight. Sometimes his wild determination got in the way of common sense. Padme didn't want to imagine the possibility that he wouldn't come home, but... she couldn't help thinking about it. Life without Anakin would be life without half of her soul. And raising their child, his child, alone? She wasn't sure if she could do it. She needed Anakin for support. He was the one who had convinced her that their marriage would work, and whenever the weight of their secret was too much for her, he lovingly reassured her. How could she exist without him?
She choked back a sob and wrapped her arms around her belly, trying not to break down. She longed for him; every living inch of her ached for his touch, his kiss. Just one kiss, and she would be satisfied. She would know then that he was safe. She wanted so badly to crawl into bed and find him beside her, and hide in the shadow of the night, enfolding herself in his warmth.
Another horrible thought crossed her mind, and this time she didn't try to hold back her tears. If Anakin was all right, surely he would have contacted her by now, somehow. She pressed her forehead to the cool glass of the window, closing her eyes.
"Oh, Ani," she whispered under her breath, "please come home to me."
She heard soft footsteps behind her, and turned to see Threepio approaching her side. They looked at each other for a moment; 3PO seemed to be debating on whether or not to tell her something. She heaved a shakey sigh.
"What is it, Threepio?" she asked softly.
"Oh, Misstress Padme, Master Anakin is on the veranda. But you do seem so very upset. Shall I tell him to call another ti--"
But she was already gone.
She stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway, letting out a long breath. There he was, his back to her, looking out at the blazing Coruscant skyline. His shoulders were set, his feet were planted in a meditative stance, and his hands were clasped behind him. He was beautiful. She wanted to run to him, but she couldn't move; her body shook with relief.
"Ani," she breathed, and in an instant his arms were around her. She buried her head in his robes, tangling her fingers in his hair. She began to cry.
"What? What is it?" Anakin looked down at her, concerned.
"Oh, Anakin. Anakin, I could see the smoke from here; all day I watched it. I was so scared..." Her voice trailed off, and she collapsed into him.
He stroked her hair and rubbed gentle circles along her back, bringing a finger to her lips.
"Shh, I'm all right. I'm here, you're safe now."
She clung to him, relaxed but still unable to stop shaking. He tipped her chin up and looked at her with teary eyes. His lips met hers in a way that spoke volumes, radiating love, tenderness, desire and longing. Padme brought her trembling hands to his face, feeling alive at his kiss. He was safe. She never wanted it to end, this connection to him, and she let all of her emotions, her love, her desperation, flow into him through their kiss. But all too soon, it did end.
"I'm so sorry, Padme, but--" he kissed her again-- "I have to--" another kiss-- "go."
She shook her head, tears coming rapidly to her eyes. "No! No, don't leave me again," she sobbed, her eyes searching his, pleading with him.
"I can't stay," he said, but his voice quivered. He looked down at her with apologetic eyes, but she would not forgive. She took his hands and guided them to rest atop her swollen stomach.
"Please," she begged, feeling very much like a small child. "Ani, please." Her voice was little more than a raspy whisper.
A tear fell from his eyes as he brought a hand up to gently stroke her cheek, brushing away the moisture there.
"I'll be back." He tried his best to smile. "Have faith, my love."
He gave her another long kiss, but it wasn't the same. He was leaving again; she would no longer know he was safe.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered again into her hair, kissing the top of her head.
Slowly, after one long, final moment, he pulled away from her gently and began to walk away. She grasped his hand, sobbing vehnemently, until she was forced to let go. She watched him climb into his speeder, and turned away to she wouldn't have to see him leave. She heard the engine roar to life, and he was gone. For a long while after he left, Padme stood on the veranda, the trace of his kiss still warm on her lips.