A/N: At last, welcome to Varykino. We hope you'll enjoy your stay- expect a longer one than what was implied in the movie (but I have an argument as to why that's not AU). The names 'Paddy Accu', 'Nandi', and 'Teckla' were lifted straight out of the AOTC script.

Note: Unexpectedly, there'll be a brief hiatus after this while I polish upcoming chapters. Feel free to check my bio page for updates. Reviews do wonders to encourage me to work faster. ;)

For anyone needing an escape during the holidays, this chapter is for you.

Chapter 12. The Terrace

"Forgive me if I stumble and fall,
for I know not how to love too well.
I am clumsy and my words do not form as I wish.
So let me kiss you instead
and let my lips paint for you
all the pictures that my clumsy heart cannot."
 - Atticus

Artists of prose and screen have tried to capture the magic of true love's first kiss.

It is the climax moment of fairy tales. No single kiss seems to have more weight than the initial meeting of the lips. The only other that comes close is the kiss all couples dread in their bones, even as they know it will inevitably come— the last. Every true romance since the dawn of time has pursued to push that final kiss as far into the future as possible. The players pray that Death alone will be the harbinger of the end, not a change of heart from their partner.

One has even taken on Death in his battle for true love's sake. Alas, the ambitious knight took the wrong weapons to war.

Some daydream of first kisses with sweeping expectations, while others sweat over living up to them. Both sides hope to be more than satisfied when expectation meets reality. Satisfaction is the low bar; we want to be levitating off of our feet in a swirl of passion. A kiss is a communication tree with a multitude of branches. They can be chaste, reverent, possessive, arousing, reassuring. They can be demanding or pleading. What all kisses share is that they are a bridge— the tiniest bridge in the world if the crossers are doing it right— where two hearts come together and erode the distance between them. With the rarest of souls, the bridge dissolves completely. Separation becomes a distant memory, one that stays away even after the lips have parted. It is all a perilous risk. The greater the heart swells, the more piercing its break if the bridge collapses under their feet.

I will give the most dedicated testimony I can to the first time my future husband crossed our bridge, but there's an element to a kiss's buildup which cannot be captured in retelling. It is the wind that can't be caught, for it is beyond words. If it wasn't, we would never seek out a bridge for own daring crossing. We'd be content to read and watch the artists try and fail time and again to capture that impossible magic. We aren't built that way. We're built to experience it for ourselves— to feel our own heart swell and thunder in our own chest.

Anakin wasn't my very first, first kiss.

But he was my last.

The pretense of being a slow learner was just that— an act. Anakin could be the most cunning, sharp-eyed pupil when he wanted to be, and there was never a lesson he took to more in his life than securing my love. The true match up was between him and Time; I was simply the unsuspecting prize.

In the same way I witnessed a new side of him at my family's table, he had seen a different side of me. More so than any occasion we'd shared before, my walls were down, and I was smiling and laughing— oftentimes at his own wit. The Anakin who knew we were destined but had spent ten long years waiting for Fate to carry out its promise was wildly encouraged by what he saw. Insecurities that ran deeper than what a tasty tunda roll could smooth over were anxiously anticipating any sign that I'd started to feel the way he did.

He mistook my smiles at the table, our flirting in the hallway, the bonding in my bedroom— and, no doubt, the form-fitting dress— as the signals he'd been pressing for. Because he's Anakin, once encouraged, he came on to me with guns blazing. The brazenness of lifting my cheek and thumbing my lip wasn't so much confidence as it was insecurities and impatience rushing to confirm I was on the same ground as he.

Anakin was not a man designed to wait, and he'd already had a decade of it by the time we reached Naboo. He was giving me clues as to his intentions and desires as early on as when he smoothly declared he'd grown up back on Coruscant. But ten years of expectation made him go too far, too fast in my childhood bedroom (a poor choice of setting and timing, yet another pitfall of Anakin's rushing). By scorning his touch, I only magnified his insecurities. For the first time, however brief, I got a peek at his temper when I dared to call him 'Ani' so soon after rejecting his adult advances.

He recovered quickly. It was time to reevaluate.

In between Theed and Varykino, this diligent student realized he needed to adjust his approach. His desperate drive for affirmation would keep triggering my wings and I'd keep flying away. Slow and steady would win the race. It's impressive how quickly he learned the same thing about me that I learned through the dresses about myself: I didn't like rushing into things. Anakin was the impulsive one; I needed time to break down my methodical walls. He knew he had to walk the risky tightrope of giving me enough mental space to absorb what was happening between us… but not so much that I talked myself into another escape. It was a fine line to walk, but the reward on the other side would surely be worth it. All he would have to do is wait for the right moment.

In the initial minutes after our arrival at Varykino, he found it.

A few nights later, he would imply the kiss had been a gift on my part— coyly denying the brilliant study he'd done to secure it. Anakin had been ready to win me at all costs for years. The moment he learned of his and Obi-Wan's assignment to my protection detail was the announcement that the first lap had finally begun, similar to the noisy blare at the Boonta Eve Classic that began the violent podrace. Much like then, he got off to a clumsy start, but victory was always assured. The Chosen One had chosen me, and the collateral damage would lay where it fell in his dust.

I never stood a chance.

"One last… There."

I watched as my arms came to my sides in the starship's mirror, my soft whispers infiltrating my ears alone. My newly adorned dress flowed off my body like an ombré waterfall of yellow, pink and purple hues from collar to the hem that flooded my feet. Despite the fact that it had been gifted to me five years before, the ensemble fit perfectly. My faith in Sola paid off at a level I couldn't have expected— she'd beautifully tailored my long hair into a seashell like shape that tucked in under itself. A series of purple headbands with gray beads were expertly spaced down the curve of the style. Taking the initiative, I'd come up with the idea for the silver arm bracelets and the light blue, segmented necklace. The accessories had just been attached, finishing the look. I was ready to step out of the yacht's private room.

As I stared at my reflection, I waited for the nerves to soar, just as they had in the palace washroom when I saw myself in the blue cinched dress. I expected the admonishing voices in the back of my head to assail me with reasons why this wasn't a good idea.

Amazingly, they didn't come.

I wonder what this will do to our unspoken truce.

Anakin had been on his very best behavior since leaving the Theed house. All of a sudden, he was the walking definition of what a respectful, appropriate Jedi protector with no ulterior motives would be. There were no breath-catching looks, no heart-pumping statements, and he most certainly kept all his fingers to himself at a professional distance. He knew my walls were up after what happened in the bedroom, but his change into the dutiful bodyguard had the effect he was masterfully going for. I was growing comfortable around him again. So long as he didn't flare my anxieties about what was plainly growing between us, my skittish walls found they had no adversary to push back.

The hour had begun to get late by the time Sola finished with my hair and makeup, so I resolved to change into the dress on the yacht once we were in flight. My sister had been very disappointed and vocal over not getting to see the final product of her work, but she agreed quickly when I reminded her that if I left wearing the flowing dress, the hem and train would drag down Theed's streets or else ride a speeder bus to the Royal Hangar. Theed is a clean city, but it's not completely free of grime. She voiced no more protest. Sola seemed to care more about maintaining the beautiful but fragile quality of the dress than she did any heads I might turn with the exposed back.

Anakin and I donned our cloaks and made our way to the hangar uneventfully. The most notable part of the journey occurred when we entered the bay itself, and Anakin's eyes saw the space he'd only looked at solemnly from above when we'd entered Theed's atmosphere. How strange it must've been for him, to return to the hangar where so much heavy memory still seeped from the walls. I'd walked through enough times since that day that layers of other memories had papered over the last time we saw Qui-Gon, but I could still recall it with somber ease. For Anakin, this was his very first return. Judging by the look on his face and a few mumbled comments, I gathered that his thoughts lingered as much on the safety and whereabouts of his current master as they did on the man who died before he could fill the role.

We still hadn't heard any communication from Obi-Wan. The longer we went without contact, the less it became an inconvenience and the more worrisome it became for the Master's own sake.

That being said, Anakin's mood perked up when he saw the engines and chrome plating of the H-type Nubian yacht we'd be traveling in.

The cockpit— which Anakin made a straight line for— was located in the central area of the upper section. The lower and upper levels were connected by a turbolift platform, situated before the lounge and crew bunks on the upper deck. At the front section of the lower level was a private room that could serve as my own bedroom on longer flights, if needed. The vessel itself was a sleek creation of the Nubian Design Collective, but it had been customized by the renowned Theed Palace Space Vessel Engineering Corps. This is where it truly captured Anakin's attention— the Corps had equipped it with a Class 0.9 Nubian 150 hyperdrive. He actually looked pained when I reminded him we had no reason to fly the ship beyond Naboo's airspace.

As a pilot, he was transfixed. As my protector, he wasn't near as thrilled to hear the ship was unarmed, in accordance with the peaceful nature of the planet it came from. He seemed marginally appeased after he learned of its powerful shield system an array of electronic countermeasures.

I appreciated his dedication, truth be told. Any assassin who either didn't dare come after me while I was in the palace or had simply taken this long to catch up would find an opportunity to attack us in the air. That, or now was their chance to follow us to the privacy of the Lake Country. Leaving Theed, especially after having been in and around the palace and my home, made this the most vulnerable stage of our hiding yet. For this reason, Anakin didn't let us take off until the security guards— who'd already had the vessel under close watch since before they even knew I was coming, but doubly so once they found out who'd next be using it— did two sweeps of the ship to make sure no tracking device was on board.

I have to say, it was impressive how he calmly yet directly worked with the security unit. He didn't order them about haughtily, as I half-expected him to. He just wanted to make sure his wishes were carried out thoroughly. As he walked and talked with the unit, Anakin caught me smiling more than once while they inspected the ship under his sharp eye.

A detachment of five guards would accompany us to Varykino. I recognized two or three of their faces, but I'd never worked alongside any of them before. Truthfully, their presence stirred discomforting feelings of unsettled grief in me. The last time I'd flown with a group assigned to protect me, seven of them lost their lives. In sharp contrast to Anakin's ease, my hands shook as I greeted the five men who would discreetly be with us on Varykino. For each one, I silently said a prayer that they would come back home to their families. Alive.

Near the end of the flight, I realized I better get moving if I wanted to figure out how to weave my limbs through the layered dress by myself before we landed. The first time Anakin's professional exterior blinked was when I announced I was departing his company to change clothes. "Again?" he'd blurted out, catching himself a moment after.

I'd avoided his eye on my way out the door.

Now, here I was, standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Dressed in a beautiful, romantic gown. Waiting for nerves that weren't coming.

Despite the continued pull to return to my desk at Coruscant, I was elated to return to Varykino. I was excited to show it to Anakin. Everything was going better than I could have hoped after our heated interlude in my bedroom— he was finally behaving himself, we'd made it this far in the journey without any attacks, and the Military Creation Act still had not passed in my absence. I'd worried my senatorial opponents would pounce on the opportunity once they learned I was stepping back, but they continued to face the fire of my fierce counterparts. All in all, I was feeling far more optimistic than I had any right to.

My knees swayed just a fraction with my weight, but it was enough to tell me the ship had touched down.

We're here.

Stepping out from the room, I made my way through the narrow halls of the ship to the small bay where the ramp extended out from. One of the guards, draped in the dark brown garb of his uniform, was standing at the top on even flooring. He turned at the sound of my heeled shoes, and his eyes went wide before he could quickly blink them back into composure. "Milady," he gave a short bow. "The groundskeeper will be here shortly to begin shuttling the four other guardsmen to the lodge. He can take passengers two at a time. They will scout out the premises to insure it is safe for your arrival. Once we have the all clear, you and your companion will be ferried to it as well."

If any assassin had so much as laid a finger on my cherished lakeside retreat, Anakin's lightsaber would be the least of their troubles— unless he lent it to me.

I nodded. "Very good…?"

"Captain Ardimon."

"Thank you, Captain Ardimon."

"I will stay behind with the ship until the groundskeeper takes you across. I'll be his last trip. We will work something out to get the security team to and from the ship more efficiently every night, as we will be sleeping here in shifts. I must say, it is an honor to serve you, milady."

But I wasn't really listening anymore. I was staring down the ramp.

As I stood at the top, I could only see a sliver of the gray platform below. A sudden, completely unexpected stab of fear perforated my heart.

Cordé.

The last woman who'd walked down the ramp of a Nubian yacht carrying the name of Amidala died in the act.

As did the six people around her.

I felt the blood drain from my cheeks even as my heartbeat rapidly accelerated. Was there an assassin out there, right now, with a weapon aimed at the ship? A paid executioner just waiting for me to disembark before they caused an explosion, the sound of which would reverberate through the mountain canyon?

Captain Ardimon— darkly ironically, one of six people around me— came closer to my left side. He gave another bow, then hesitantly eyed the long hem of my attire. "Would you like my arm to help you down the ramp, milady?"

The kind man. He thought I was stalled because I was scared to trip over my dress on the downward slope. It was considerate of him, but wholly unneeded. I'd been descending steeper ramps than this in heavier, longer, more elaborate gowns and heels since I was a preteen. Walking down ramps amid a jungle of fabric and not tripping was something of a superpower at this point.

I was about to open my mouth to politely decline when a soft voice preempted me.

"That won't be necessary."

I looked down at the bottom of the ramp. Anakin was staring at me like… like the first time he'd seen the lights of hyperspace. Exalting. Worshipful. The iceberg in my heart liquefied under his gaze.

I don't know how long he stood there looking at me in reverent silence. Eventually, he began walking up the incline in my direction. Our eye contact didn't break as he extended an arm, the one nearest to me, out to his side at a bent angle.

Blue eyes searched my face, and my Amidala mask had never felt so far away. "I've got you," he whispered on a breath. He wasn't talking about gravity and the perils of long skirts.

The polite denial of gentlemanly assistance died on my lips. I wrapped a hand around Anakin's inner elbow, and for the first time in years, I accepted an escort down a ramp.

There's something I learned a long time ago about pilots— speed is speed, in all its forms. And Paddy Accu, while a silver-haired older man, still lived with a pilot's blood in his veins. But this shared enthusiasm wasn't the only reason why Anakin had tremendous fun in the water speeder. The sights of the Lake Country enraptured him. His grin was the largest I've ever seen it as Paddy steered us around embankments and shorelines, magnificent mountains dwarfing us on all sides. From my vantage point behind him, I watched as the man from a desert planet leaned his face into the refreshing mist as we coursed above the water or skimmed the tips of his outstretched fingers above the waves.

He used the Force multiple times to tilt the sides of our boat, eliciting a girlish, higher-pitched shriek from me every time he did so.

Everything about the Lake Country was stunning. The air, virgin and sweet, rushed into our happy nostrils with the speed of Paddy's cruising. The sun was high in the sky; it shimmered over the water, dividing the surface into countless blinding diamonds. A trio of birds— hatchi, guessing by their trill— flew northeast overhead as if leading the way.

I'd told Anakin the palace impressed me every time on approach, and that was true. But that feeling was nothing compared to how I felt when we came around the base of a mountain's leg and the arresting view finally showed us Varykino.

Even over the noise of the speeder slicing through the water, I heard Anakin's gasp.

The villa rested on the perch of a massive island in the middle of the lake. Its magazine of roofs were domed, triangular, diagonal; green, light blue, and orange. The dwelling stood out amongst its natural stage yet blended in perfectly with it. Lush vegetation, too wild and obstinate to be contained, spilled over the sides of cascading walls; it was a labor of love for Paddy to continuously keep it in check.

Even from our position on the water's level, we could see enough to make out the gardens and wide balconies. Blood-red dots from elevated flowerpots lined the terraces like berries on a vine.

To say it looked like a paradise didn't do it justice.

Anakin turned to look at me with wide eyes and a disbelieving smile. Small dew drops of moisture clung to his spiky hair— he'd leaned far into the mist coming off the side of our vessel. The Lake Country was already laying its claim on its new visitor. "We get to stay there?"

I grinned back at him, beyond pleased at his reaction even as I completely understood it. "Wait until you see the view from the terrace at sunset. That will really take your breath away."

He laughed, looking like a boy who'd won a podracer. For a fraction of a second, his eyes dropped down to the fabric of my dress before he caught himself and they flashed back up to meet mine. "I don't have any breath left."

He untwisted to face forward in his seat again, just missing the blush that rose in my cheeks.

Paddy expertly steered the boat into Varykino's private dock just as he had for the Naberrie's countless times before. Tall walls made of ancient stone, constructed in a long-gone era of Naboo's history, lined the small jetty. As Anakin got a good look at the stairs leading from the pier to the top of the terrace walkway, he winced. "I was joking before when I said your luggage is heavy. But after carrying it up those stairs, I might actually run out of breath."

Paddy laughed heartily. It was a wonderful, deep sound. "Never you mind that, young'in. Me and these guard boys can manage. You run up and see the view." He waved a hand at the steps. "Ah, even better. There's Nandi and Teckla. They can manage the bags while I fetch your other captain."

Anakin started to counter, but he stilled as I put a staying hand on his shoulder from behind. Though I said nothing aloud, I wanted him with me when I took in the view at the balustrade.

At my touch, he remained silent.

Trying not to rock the boat at unloading was somewhat of an amusing juggling act. Paddy had leaped up first to make sure Anakin's manners didn't change the young man's mind— though I don't think there was any chance of that now— and he grabbed the two largest suitcases quickly to drive the point home. This left Anakin and I chuckling as we did our best to center the boat from the sudden loss of weight. Once confident it was stable, he exited with the same urgency as Paddy— only to turn around and offer a gracious hand to me.

I was already standing, and I took his warm offering with a soft smile. Carefully, I gathered my trim and stepped up to meet him on the landing. His strength and the momentum pulled me forward easily, and I walked past him only to suddenly come face-to-face with Nandi Accu.

Instinctively, I met her in a crushing embrace. She was near my age, and Paddy's daughter. While he stayed in the groundskeeper's home just off the main house full-time, she and Teckla lived in the village nearby. They joined Paddy in service every time a Naberrie, or a guest of the Naberries, was in residence. "Welcome back, Senator!" Her melodic accent rang in my ear with her words. "It's been too long. Varykino has missed its princess."

I smiled at the moniker she'd always had for me. Whether I was queen, senator, or anything else, Nandi had always dubbed me the princess of the estate. She knew how deep and sincere my love for it went.

We pulled back from the embrace, but our hands rested on each other's upper arms. I'd never gotten as close with Teckla, but I'd known Nandi nearly all my life. She was practically family at this point. "Nandi, I'm 'Padmé,' especially here."

"Yes, ma'am," she compromised with a sly smile. She eyed Anakin, and I witnessed yet another person become dazed when face-to-face with the handsome young man. "And who is this?"

Anakin bowed politely. He didn't even blink at the stunningly gorgeous, black-haired woman before him. "Anakin Skywalker. I'm in charge of Padmé's protection."

Nandi looked to me, her eyebrows slightly higher than they had been before. I didn't know what else to do in the moment except briskly nod.

Whatever I communicated, it seemed to be enough for her. She smiled sweetly. "Very good. Welcome." She turned back to me. "Paddy, Teckla, and I are very pleased to see you return."

Over her shoulder, Teckla gave a short curtsy. There was nothing rude in its brevity; Teckla and I had always been very civilly neutral about one another. But she, too, eyed Anakin with a great deal of interest.

It seemed I'd brought some stunning beauty to the Lake Country, as well.

Anakin and I shortly made our way towards the flight of stairs. He looked at me with a question in his eyes as we began our ascent.

"What is it?"

"You're very close with the staff."

I raised a teasing eyebrow. "You would rather I be cold and stringent? Snap my fingers and issue demands?"

Anakin laughed, shaking his head. The light and dark blue flecks in his eyes matched the tapestry of the water around us. "No, it's just… Obi-Wan has some pretty hard views on politicians. They've rubbed off on me a little. But you keep defying them."

I didn't reply right away as we finished the last leg. Truthfully, I was partly holding my breath in anticipation, even through our slight exercise. I couldn't wait to see the view at the top.

I did let loose enough air to generally explain, "I've known the staff here for years."

"It's your family's property?"

I nodded. We'd cleared the stairs. I could see the spit of land that jutted out from the lake straight ahead. "We used to come here for school retreat. We would swim to that island every day." I smiled at memories that pre-dated thrones, legislation, or armies. Soft gravel crunched under our feet as we approached the terrace. The smell of the surrounding flowers intoxicated me, but the feast before my eyes was the most enchanting for all my senses. I could feel the crystal liquid on my arms just by looking at it.

I barely even noticed that Anakin, instead of taking in the magnificent view, was solely drinking in me and my words.

"I love the water." Feeling weightless, I smiled at him as we approached the stony balcony. Time and climate had made it unpolished and granular, but it only added to the magical aesthetic. Everywhere else in the modern age, especially on Coruscant, gleamed with unnatural flawlessness. Doors, walls, ships. It was all too smooth, too manufactured. The microscopic abrasions on my wrists as they rested on the balustrade's surface felt tangible. Felt real. The deliciously erosive sensation brought back memories from the island just ahead. "We used to lie out on the sand and let the sun dry us, and try to guess the names of the birds singing."

As if listening to my reminiscing, a roopi bird sang its tune somewhere to our right.

"I don't like sand." My eyes moved from the view and the past to the young man beside me in the present. It didn't take much effort for my gaze to appreciatively linger on him, in much the way it had the scenery. "It's coarse, and rough— and irritating," He threw the pinky-sized twig he'd been fiddling with away. "And it gets everywhere."

Of course, Tatooine. Anakin would have a much different view to sand than I. But he wasn't pouting, and we smiled gently at each other, the both of us at ease for one last moment. Then he held the stare a beat longer than what could be deemed 'appropriate'. His eyes flashed down to my bare shoulder before they shyly took in the balustrade.

Alarm bells stirred. My subconscious knew something electric was forming in the air, but it couldn't point exactly to it.

Another voice— not the vixen who wanted to be released, not the decorum-hugger who lived within lines— but another, softer inner voice, told me to wait.

Patiently, I continued listening to him. And to her.

"Not like here." Anakin's voice was different. Uneven. "Here, everything's soft..." he swallowed nervously, "...and smooth."

A shaking hand rose to my left. Based on his words, for a split-second, I thought he wanted to feel the silky texture of my dress— like he was simply a purveyor of fine fabrics.

The vixen howled with laughter at the idea. But even she sat up straighter when skin met skin.

My gaze moved out over the water. I couldn't focus on anything in front of me. A parade could have gone by a meter from my face and it wouldn't have registered. I could only concentrate on the peripheral image of his right hand as it moved up and down my forearm. Faster than I would have expected him to, Anakin's fingers jumped to the naked flesh of my back, low behind the shoulder; all my senses zeroed as they lightly skimmed themselves with shocking audacity. Where he touched, it burned.

I knew his lips had parted when I heard the raggedness of his breath. The heat became too much. I turned, shifting my weight just a scant inch out from under his reach. My wary eyes met his in tandem with the abrupt movement. Anakin froze, watching me as if I was prey that would scurry away if he moved too suddenly. He was right to think so.

But he had evolved to become a very good hunter. As if he'd finally learned through his many oral stumbles that his declarations got him into trouble, he let his eyes do the talking. His timing couldn't have been more perfect.

Mine were finally listening.

I could tell you we had an entire conversation, the two of us, just with our eyes in those moments. But I wouldn't be able to tell you what we said. Just like a dance, there's a language when two souls meet that cannot be translated into something as basic as words. All I know, I'd never felt both so hypnotized and so fully alert simultaneously. He smiled briefly, tenderly, before he seemed to decide and commit to what was about to happen next.

Every inch lasted a minute as he crept closer, yet went by too quickly for me to formulate the rationale— or the desire— to stop him. A last-second protest escaped my lips, and I truly believe it was the dying breath of a different fate for Anakin and I. It came out as a weak gasp of air. He brushed his warm lips against mine, tentatively, and I flew.

Encouraged, he pressed deeper. My head tilted back and I flew higher and higher with him, soaring. There were no voices, only feelings, and the bliss I found in them was transcendent. But he was the natural pilot at home in the skies; I was the solid member of the grounded, and at last our height became too much for me. It was the final push of exhilaration I felt when his mouth opened against mine that made my vertigo begin, and, scared, I pulled back.

"No." I took a deep gasp of air and shook my head, desperately trying to find level ground again. "I shouldn't have done that."

My fear of heights had triggered the Amidala in me to rise to the surface, and it was more her curt words than Padmé's that sliced their way out. I give my personal name to the side of me that wanted to throw caution to the wind, touch his face, and start kissing him again. But it would take time for her to become stronger than her more dominate, practiced sister.

"I'm sorry!" If ever there was a man sounding like he'd been smacked by whiplash, in that moment, it was Anakin. I felt a crushing rush of shame— not exactly for what we'd just done (that would come later)— for the hurt and confusion my mixed signals were inflicting upon him.

He's a grown man, the rational side of me argued against the charge of injury. He'll get over it.

The other speaker in my thoughts had the gall to laugh. Anakin being a grown man has become exactly the problem.

"This can't— We just… It's the setting," I tried to explain away, my eyes sweeping the exotic view before us. I grasped at pitiful excuses that ignored the tension which had existed between us for days. "The lake, the flowers."

There was a long, strained pause. Then, "When I'm with you, my mind is not my own."

I said nothing. I refused to take my eyes off the island in front of me, even though I could see his eyes boring into me in my peripheral. The need to escape was overwhelming. My heart was still trying to push my ribcage in his direction to resume the kiss. I would not give in to such an irreversible impulse. I can't.

At my continued silence, Anakin suddenly stood straighter and turned away from me fully. "I need to inspect the grounds— familiarize myself with them."

I nodded, immensely thankful he'd not only jumped straight to duty, but that said responsibility would give us a much-needed break from each other. "Excellent. Take as long as you need."

His voice was gruffer at my enthusiastic approval. "I want to meet with the staff, too. How many are there?"

"Three." I resisted the urge to turn to him in sudden confusion. I was still too ransacked with adrenaline to look him in the eye just yet. "But you met them downstairs. Paddy, Nandi, and Neckla. They've all been with the family for years. They're completely trustworthy."

Anakin pursed his lips. "I'll be the judge of that." Perhaps it was the further tensing of my already tightened shoulders, but it seemed he noticed I was about to argue. We were starting to develop a good understanding of each other, even through silent but verbose body language. "I'll take your faith into consideration, of course."

I rocked on my heels, resisting the urge to bend at the waist and put my heated forehead on the banister. A repetitive chorus of 'What have I done?' was beginning to chant loudly in between my ears. I couldn't think through their noise.

"I'm going to go to my room." The words rushed out as if from a child sentencing themselves to a time out after knowing they'd done something wrong.

At this, Anakin turned and looked at me directly. I peeked at him haltingly. His eyes appeared as bewildered as they had after I'd pulled away from our kiss. It looked like he was fighting the urge to say something.

"Hmm," he finally grunted, whatever he was going to say remaining locked behind his full lips, where it should stay. I curved mine into a forced smile then began my flee. I was almost used to acutely feeling Anakin's gaze on my back now— almost. This time, it was still on fire wherever he'd caressed it. I kept my face forward as I headed inside the villa, feeling his eyes on me with every shaky step.

The hunter had been sidetracked, but not deterred. If anything, the craze of the chase was only making me more alluring in his eyes; so much sweeter would his victory be when I finally surrendered.

Over the span of four and a half days, Varykino would become a turning point in my and Anakin's relationship. I would never look at the lakeside lodge and the terrain surrounding it the same way again. All of Obi-Wan Kenobi's fears put together could not have imagined the trouble his apprentice and I would stir once we were secluded from the galaxy.

As for me, I was about to learn that sometimes, realizing the face of danger isn't very difficult.

Walking in the opposite direction of it— is.