A whole troop escorted them to their room on the second floor of the guestrooms. Liane and his band of merry warriors clumped around Anakin, the Chief walked besides the bride, holding out his arm for support. Several little girls dressed in white frocks-hair decorated with flowered wreaths-and another dozen little boys-dressed like the warriors, turban and all-helped with the bride's flowing train. Behind them followed the bridesmaids, unusually quite, the presence of the chief insured that they behaved as ladies should.
Liane and the other warriors kept up a cheery banter nudging and thumping Anakin now, laughing raucously on their own jokes.
Anakin didn't seem to find anything funny though; he was only conscious of the heat radiating from the queen's hand through their laced fingers.
Amidala had a hard time keeping up with Anakin because of her high-heeled shoes that kept slipping on the loose gravel.
She groaned inwardly at the seemingly endless, twisting garden path leading to the guestrooms, her feet were killing her.
"If Anakin decides to carry me I won't refuse," she thought. "But Anakin is too busy bantering with those loud mouthed pack of braggarts." She thought as she looked at his back again. "He might as well be towing a pack animal," She told herself. She tripped on her dress once more, and once more the chief steadied her for which she was grateful.
They reached the foot of the wooden steps, suddenly she stopped; pulling her hand back rudely, Anakin stopped mid-step and looked back at her. Amidala gave him a defiant look, her lips a thin line. The group stopped and looked quizzically at the two, then without another word, she pushed passed him on the narrow steps, her veil brushing against his face as she practically ran up holding her dress with both hands.
Anakin shrugged as the chief regarded him.
"Every thing will be alright my boy. Trust me." The chief said as he patted him on the back.
The boys stood by the door with the groom. Amidala heard more laughter and excited chatter. She was pacing angrily round the room, as Anakin opened the door she sat down fast on the couch, her back to the door. At last, the door closed and she slumped back exhausted, grateful that it was over. She knew one thing-she would not be getting married again very soon-whether this farce was final or not.
Anakin first got rid of the cumbersome headpiece, throwing the turban on the table, he hurried over to Amidala; he could hardly hold his excitement-he'd wanted to be alone with her since he arrived from his hunting trip this morning.
He stopped suddenly uncertain of his next move. Amidala began to pull out the string of flowers and pins holding her hair on top of her head. The loose ends fell down to her waist like a waterfall. It was obvious she was miffed at him and was pointedly ignoring him.
Cautiously he approached her but she ignored him. Very deliberately, he pushed off the white fabric, streaming out behind her on the couch and gently lowered him-self there. He bent to pick up the discarded string of rolla flowers on the floor, wrapping it around his hand. Taking a whiff of the aromatic flowers, he relaxed against the couch the heady perfume making him giddy.
He waited admiring her back as she began to take off her earring then her rings-he craned his neck over her and noticed she left the wedding ring on; making his hopes soar.
She began to fumble with the clasp of her necklace, Anakin rushed to help; their hands touched, sparks flew. She looked back over her shoulders to glare at him.
"I'm…I'm sorry! Pad" he whispered. She just glared. Anakin's eyes rose slowly to meet her eyes.
"So blue and so innocent," she thought as the two stared at each other.
"Sorry for what?" She asked after a lengthy pause.
"For whatever I did to make you mad,"
"Actually…" She said as she turned in her seat, so that they were sitting side by side.
"I'm not angry at you; it's just that I can't help thinking about my people. My world is in utter chaos for which I am responsible and here I am dressed like this…" She indicated the cumbersome gown with her hands.
This seemed to relieve him, heaving a sigh of relief; Anakin leant back against the soft padding stretching out his arm along the back of the couch.
"How did we get ourselves into this?" She moaned as she slumped back against the sofa. Anakin went rigid but did not move his arm.
Amidala too stiffened slightly when she felt his arm practically around her shoulders, but pretended she wasn't aware of it-though she could already feel ants running down her bare neck where his sleeves touched her skin
"I'm just so mad that fate should be playing dolls with me…with us, while I should be out there fighting alongside my men."
Anakin smiled as he looked at her.
"I don't mind being played with! As long as you are the other doll," He said with a roguish grin. Amidala turned to drill him with her daggers stare. Instead of being daunted, he just chuckled at her. That made her angrier; the single lamp at the side of the couch cast a golden light on her face, giving a mystical shine to her, now, fiery eyes. She was so close he could smell her perfume.
Then suddenly she jumped up. "Anakin Skywalker! You can afford to have your fun any time you wish. "You…" She turned around with a flourish and pointed a finger at him "Do not have to worry about your people or your planet nor are millions of beings dependant on you."
"Padmé Skywalker!" Anakin said stressing the last name, "You may have the worries of one planet on your delicate shoulders, but I usually have several on mine…" He paused. "However I have learnt to accept the little tests and trials that fate throws my way-because, my lovely wife, usually there is no other choice. So why not enjoy it while it lasts."
Liane and the other warriors kept up a cheery banter nudging and thumping Anakin now, laughing raucously on their own jokes.
Anakin didn't seem to find anything funny though; he was only conscious of the heat radiating from the queen's hand through their laced fingers.
Amidala had a hard time keeping up with Anakin because of her high-heeled shoes that kept slipping on the loose gravel.
She groaned inwardly at the seemingly endless, twisting garden path leading to the guestrooms, her feet were killing her.
"If Anakin decides to carry me I won't refuse," she thought. "But Anakin is too busy bantering with those loud mouthed pack of braggarts." She thought as she looked at his back again. "He might as well be towing a pack animal," She told herself. She tripped on her dress once more, and once more the chief steadied her for which she was grateful.
They reached the foot of the wooden steps, suddenly she stopped; pulling her hand back rudely, Anakin stopped mid-step and looked back at her. Amidala gave him a defiant look, her lips a thin line. The group stopped and looked quizzically at the two, then without another word, she pushed passed him on the narrow steps, her veil brushing against his face as she practically ran up holding her dress with both hands.
Anakin shrugged as the chief regarded him.
"Every thing will be alright my boy. Trust me." The chief said as he patted him on the back.
The boys stood by the door with the groom. Amidala heard more laughter and excited chatter. She was pacing angrily round the room, as Anakin opened the door she sat down fast on the couch, her back to the door. At last, the door closed and she slumped back exhausted, grateful that it was over. She knew one thing-she would not be getting married again very soon-whether this farce was final or not.
Anakin first got rid of the cumbersome headpiece, throwing the turban on the table, he hurried over to Amidala; he could hardly hold his excitement-he'd wanted to be alone with her since he arrived from his hunting trip this morning.
He stopped suddenly uncertain of his next move. Amidala began to pull out the string of flowers and pins holding her hair on top of her head. The loose ends fell down to her waist like a waterfall. It was obvious she was miffed at him and was pointedly ignoring him.
Cautiously he approached her but she ignored him. Very deliberately, he pushed off the white fabric, streaming out behind her on the couch and gently lowered him-self there. He bent to pick up the discarded string of rolla flowers on the floor, wrapping it around his hand. Taking a whiff of the aromatic flowers, he relaxed against the couch the heady perfume making him giddy.
He waited admiring her back as she began to take off her earring then her rings-he craned his neck over her and noticed she left the wedding ring on; making his hopes soar.
She began to fumble with the clasp of her necklace, Anakin rushed to help; their hands touched, sparks flew. She looked back over her shoulders to glare at him.
"I'm…I'm sorry! Pad" he whispered. She just glared. Anakin's eyes rose slowly to meet her eyes.
"So blue and so innocent," she thought as the two stared at each other.
"Sorry for what?" She asked after a lengthy pause.
"For whatever I did to make you mad,"
"Actually…" She said as she turned in her seat, so that they were sitting side by side.
"I'm not angry at you; it's just that I can't help thinking about my people. My world is in utter chaos for which I am responsible and here I am dressed like this…" She indicated the cumbersome gown with her hands.
This seemed to relieve him, heaving a sigh of relief; Anakin leant back against the soft padding stretching out his arm along the back of the couch.
"How did we get ourselves into this?" She moaned as she slumped back against the sofa. Anakin went rigid but did not move his arm.
Amidala too stiffened slightly when she felt his arm practically around her shoulders, but pretended she wasn't aware of it-though she could already feel ants running down her bare neck where his sleeves touched her skin
"I'm just so mad that fate should be playing dolls with me…with us, while I should be out there fighting alongside my men."
Anakin smiled as he looked at her.
"I don't mind being played with! As long as you are the other doll," He said with a roguish grin. Amidala turned to drill him with her daggers stare. Instead of being daunted, he just chuckled at her. That made her angrier; the single lamp at the side of the couch cast a golden light on her face, giving a mystical shine to her, now, fiery eyes. She was so close he could smell her perfume.
Then suddenly she jumped up. "Anakin Skywalker! You can afford to have your fun any time you wish. "You…" She turned around with a flourish and pointed a finger at him "Do not have to worry about your people or your planet nor are millions of beings dependant on you."
"Padmé Skywalker!" Anakin said stressing the last name, "You may have the worries of one planet on your delicate shoulders, but I usually have several on mine…" He paused. "However I have learnt to accept the little tests and trials that fate throws my way-because, my lovely wife, usually there is no other choice. So why not enjoy it while it lasts."