She remembered the day one of the Capa village woman had invited her to an all female gathering to celebrate the birth of her son. Anakin had tried all evening to dissuade her, saying he'd miss her while she was away and what a waste it was of the precious little time they had together. Amidala being the fair politician, and who had always shared her time and life with the common people, felt she had to reciprocate the kindness of these simple people by accepting the invitation.
She was sitting in front of the mirror, trying hard to pile her hair up, but she wasn't used to doing this alone. Anakin was lounging on the couch one leg thrown over the small table, sulking. Every now and then he'd release a gigantic sigh! Then look at her with those puppy dog eyes. She abstained from looking back at him, knowing what that look could do to her.
At last she gave up and called to him for help in her most charming voice. At first, he perked up a hopeful smile spreading across his face, which evaporated as soon as she told him why she wanted him. He began to turn away.
"Anakin, pleeease! Just once," She begged "I can't do this myself-and you don't want your wife to look like a joker, would you?"
He turned back to face her,
"Look I prefer you as you are what's the point of wasting so much time on a trivial thing as make-up when we can be together having the time of our life." He said.
"Anakin, I will be back soon, go visit your friends in the warrior village-it's just a matter of a couple of hours."
Grudgingly he uncoiled his lanky form and began to walk towards her.
"Okay I'll agree…
"Thanks, luv," Amidala added hastily.
"If you promise not to go today to that blaaamed birthday," He added.
Amidala slumped back hopelessly; she was still holding her hair in one hand and losing her patience.
"Anakin! If within the count of three, you're not by my side, then forget about me coming home for the night-might I remind you that the Capa take the birth of a child very seriously and celebrate till the early morning hours."
"Okay! Okay!" He said in an impatient tone and came to kneel behind her so that every time he sighed he sent a whiff of hot air brushing against her ears and neck.
Amidala ignored his sighing and instead concentrated on showing him how to hold her hair while she pinned the rest. Suddenly she got a weird image in her brains, she stopped, looking intensely at the mirror, slowly the image dissolved and she saw her reflection replace it-Anakin was looking at the ceiling for some reason. She wondered what was it again, that suddenly made the ceiling so interesting to him.
She took out the pin from her mouth and stopped half way, another picture flooded her brains, her heart beating at the vivid picture of herself, Anakin's bare form on top of her…
She shook her head and stared at the mirror, this time Anakin was starring right back at her, a devilish gleam in his eyes and a half smirk on his lips. Amidala realized it was one thing to be intimate with your lover and quite another to actually observe ones self from above.
"Those rosy cheeks really suit you well," He whispered hoarsely in her ears, taking in her flushed appearance.
She shrugged and sat up straight calling on her royal will to compose herself again. Somehow, it wasn't working so well today.
She felt her hands tremble as she resumed pinning her hair. She sat up with a start when Anakin's hand brushed against her neck, sending a hot bolt through her body, when she turned to him angrily, he just gave her an innocent shrug.
She was loosing her patience and composure. Once more collecting her self she turned back to doing her hair, only to be jolted by yet another, rather vulgar image. Again, she caught the unmistakable mischievous twinkle in his eyes and that devilish grin.
Now she had no doubt, where the images were coming from, grabbing the wooden brush, she began to whack him on the head. Bringing his hands up to shield his head, Anakin made a run for it, guffawing as she chased him round the room, dodging through the furniture.
Anakin ran around the bed, she chased for several rounds and then without warning, he stopped and turned around so that she ran right into his arms, her momentum throwing them both on the bed. Rolling on top of her, he began kissing her. She resisted for a split second, then relaxed and finally sagged in defeat under his weight. The brush fell from her as she wound her hands around his neck. A moan escaped her as his lips found hers and she knew she would not be going anywhere that night.