AN:

Selenese and Travis, so sorry I didn't get to your reviews earlier but I appreciate them a lot! They made me so happy! Xo

What Is To Become Of Me

Padme couldn't sleep at all that night. Every time she tried to distract herself, memories of the old Anakin would interpose between her thoughts. Her imagination kept carrying her back to transcendent, wondrous, dangerous times in spite of her annoyance. She wished she could think about anything else – literally, anything else. Because if she couldn't keep fragments of the excruciatingly divine moments of her life at bay, they'd drown her in a waterfall – attacking her, absorbing her until she had no other option but to sink into it entirely.

She almost mourned her sense of reason as she lied awake in bed.

Anakin and Padme lie awake on the bed, skin to skin as they efface the war for one morning.

"Ani, I want to have our baby back on Naboo." She began. He props himself up on his elbow, his gaze landing on her pregnant belly.

"Why?" He asked as the reverent touch of his fingers rub against her baby bump.

"It's hectic here." She contemplated. "The more I think about it, the less I want to stay. Kids need somewhere safe, healthy, stable... They need structure, discipline."

His eyes skim hers to her perfect pout. He inclines his head towards hers, and his face cracks into a smirk. "I can discipline you if you'd like."

"Anakin." She blushes, rolling her eyes at his charming yet cavalier attitude.

"Okay," He accepted. His word sounding like the most endearing but perfunctory apology.

And then he smiled at her. A smile that turns a mundane, colourless day into a cloudless, vibrant sky. "We'll go."

"Yeah?" She beamed up at him, pleasantly surprised by how quickly he agreed to uproot.

"Mmhmm." A hoarse, slight moan escaped his lips, as he playfully pinched her chin. "Whatever you want... I'll give it to you." He sighed, distracted by her mouth.

His thumb brushes along her bottom lip. "I'll take care of you."

He was determined to give her the world. But all she wanted was him. Her fingers wrap around his wrist, her thumb circling the inside of it. The most innocent swirls could evoke such excitement, such meaning, heat, and peace all at the same time. She pulls his thumb off her lip so their hands can entwine. But she quickly noticed his battle wounds.

"What happened here?" She asked gently, her hands lose their flexibility as she identifies a cut and scrape against her fingertips.

"Don't worry about it." He assured, brushing it off. He tightly interlaces his fingers with hers.

She brings his hand back to her mouth and her lips lightly touch one finger after another, her tongue stroking his scars – letting him know that she'll take care of him right back.

He leans in to replace his finger with his mouth, giving his whole body to the kiss before supporting his torso with his arms stretched out on either side of her.

She has to take a breath as she looks up at him in all his glory. It should be illegal to tease her in this way. His eyes cast an irresistible spell on her as they probe into her. She scans his body above her, enthralled by one loose hair strand that didn't fall with the rest when he ran his fingers through it. Her finger traces over the large vein in his arm, as the view of his defined shoulders parts her lips. Her hands lavish him with attention, from his hips all the way up to his collar bone, loving every edge, every muscle – swept up in his virility.

And she was certain that he knew how handsome he was as he leered at her. His lips vibrate against hers as he says her name – he smirks against her mouth, knowing the soft raspy edge of his voice arched her back. If he uttered her name one more time that would be it – she would do anything he asked of her.

He flips her over – feeling woozy for a moment when he looked down at her bottom perfectly positioned in front of his pelvis. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his knuckles, making sure he didn't drool over her. He wanted to vulgarize her angelic curves that leaned against his stomach.

His finger drags over her centre, checking that she was wet and ready for him. She yelps as the finger that was in her mouth moments ago was now making her thighs squeeze together. He tantalizes her, controlling her pleasure with just one finger, playing her like a violin.

He rests his chin above her buttocks, and his breath blowing on her back has her aching for him, soaking wet for him. And he could no longer curb his impatience – he was unrestrained, perverted, inflammable. He kneels up, and she feels him harden behind her – he rewards her with his engorged package. She's compelled by the animal in him, dying to be the object of his dominance, obscenity, masculinity.

His crude hands yank her legs back a bit, allowing himself to collapse over her, their bodies fitting together like two spoons. He adores the soft texture of her hair in his face, as he nuzzles into the back of her head. He then buries her face in the pillow when raw salacious sounds escape her mouth.

Her hair a wild tumble, her arms stretch out on either side, scrunching up the sheet in her fists as she's flaring up. His hand devotes time to her breast before finding her neck. His inhalations are in her ear, making her neurotic as he wraps his fingers around her neck, forcing her head to fall back on his shoulder.

His lips press against her cheekbone, grunting out, succinctly, demandingly, "You're mine."

"Say it." He urges in a gravelly voice.

"I'm yours." She cries, her face glowing with gratitude.

And he freed her. She is devoured by a wild fever followed by a lull of wholeness, tranquility.

He taught her that it was okay to sometimes seek pleasure, be selfish, to put yourself first. A former queen always had to be stoic, a symbol of stability for her people – but Anakin let her emotions roam free around him, she could wear her heart on her sleeve, much like him. They shared the emotional support both of them had always craved. She was strengthened by his love.

She learned to balance her desires and her responsibilities – something he never quite learned to do the same way.

She could then set out into the world with a boldness, a daring confidence, a belief that one person could change the world. In many ways, love made her a better senator because she made time for herself. There was a face she showed the public, one she reserved for her family, a face for her friends, and one for her colleagues. But only he knew it all. He loved it all. He saw the sides of her no one else understood – the face she showed no one.

Even Sabe, who knew her better than her mother and sister, thought she was crazy for marrying Anakin, and ultimately brushed it off as Padme's rebellious side being drawn to his intensity. But with him she could fully be herself. A woman, wholly, unapologetically. A sensual woman. A layered woman. He gave her the life she always wanted – even if only in snippets. A life full of exuberance and charm. She was imaginative, idealistic, and now she got to thrive in an environment that nurtured all those parts of her. And she knew the spirit of her beliefs would trickle down generations. And someday her babies will continue her legacy – because hope and love never die out.

Vader's eyes flew open after indulging his imagination. He wriggled about, hating the constraints of wires holding him up while his body was sanitized. Tied to his machines, he waited for his suit to be assembled. He couldn't think clearly after his latest daydream. It was more than a memory and more than some lewd fantasy – it was the reminder of a sacred, intimate relationship – one that blinded you with the mere sight of your lover, one that dealt with the ebb and flow of sensitivity. It was a fragile obsession that remained wordless. No matter how deep it penetrates, it is, like most things, destroyed by betrayal – and is now unequivocally unattainable.

The soft pitter-patter Vader heard as Luke knocked on the door of his throne room made his heart skip a beat. It was the most delicate sound. He opened it to find two little faces looking up at him, slightly coy in their demeanor.

Luke nudged his sister, persuading her to do the talking – like it was a challenge she had to overcome. She had to express her vulnerability fully.

"We, uh–" She paused, glancing at an encouraging Luke before turning to Vader. "We were wondering if you'd like to train with us..."

All they could see, from their perspective, was a robotic form. Nothing but the sounds of his emphasized breaths indicated that there was anyone in there. But underneath the dark lenses were a pair of eyes moved by the gesture.

Padme spotted the three of them outside, dabbling in their skills with the force as they stood in a circle, passing a small ball through the air from one person to the other.

She glided over to them with a curious strut, touched by the adoring faces of her children and their small fits of giggles.

Vader felt her presence behind him, basking in the warm breeze she unknowingly sent his way.

"You two go ahead." He suggested to the twins as he joined Padme's side, making sure to leave a fair amount of space between him and her. "...You did a great job with them."

Padme stared ahead at her children, grateful that she finally saw them smile. And even more grateful that he made them smile as opposed to the alternative.

"I didn't want them to be part of this world." She thought out loud, impressed by their natural talents as she watched them. "I didn't want them learning anything about the force... I hadn't gotten over it – the fear – knowing its capabilities. But. . .I was only a few years older than them when I decided I wanted to serve my planet. And I'm sure my parents were afraid for me. They didn't understand it. . .but they never held me back. They never got in the way. So I guess. . .I'm learning that I don't need to understand it. If it's their destiny, I have to trust them – trust that I did enough to ground them when the seductive pull of power rears its head."

"They're lucky to have you." Vader acknowledged. "...I know first-hand how powerful your love is."

Padme needed a minute to absorb what he said, it left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. "And still it wasn't enough..."

Her words didn't come across bitter at all. In fact, quite the contrary – they were full of acceptance.

"It was." He murmured, thoughtfully, turning to face her. "I just. . .got lost somewhere..."

Vader looked Padme up and down, admiring her, taking his time to memorize her body. She could feel his stare lingering on her, and she finally looked his way.

His gaze holds hers and he places one foot in front of the other. He approaches her, taking off his helmet, displaying his 22 year old self. His dark blonde hair falls into waves, hitting his neck.

She finds herself meeting him halfway. Her tan tunic and leggings now morphed into a long blue gown that imitated a torrent of rich water. The japor snippet her husband gave her worn around her neck. Her hair that was slicked back into a low bun was now set free, flowing down her back – symbolic of a carefree existence. The dark chestnut color of her hair amplified by the white blossoms that appeared in her tousled curls – they were small lightweight flowers that you'd find at a funeral.

They meet in the middle of the terrace, close enough to breathe each other in. His eyelids lower, settling on her lips. He tilts his head to the side, his lips searching for hers.

Bending her head back as he forced his mouth on hers, she swiftly recognized the gradation of intensely delicious kisses. She is surrounded by his arms wandering her back, her hands find themselves in his hair. Her head swivels from one side to the other, loosely, like she couldn't hold her head up if her lips weren't stuck to his, blindly following wherever his led. It felt like gravity was a myth, as he began to sway her back and forth. She can no longer feel her feet touch the floor. Her arms flail about in a sense of abandon as he carries her, swinging her all the way around. They were rising in the air, as he clasps the back of her head, holding her close so he could deepen the kiss. She clings onto him now, helplessly, her body sinking from the wild tremors taking hold of her. There's a surge of giddiness, urgency, vertigo, and magic as they float together and his insistent tongue keeps her mouth open – salivating over each other, tangled up in their all-consuming love.

Vader and Padme watched as the ghosts of their former selves, locked in a passionate embrace, fade away into the air like smoke. They both turn back to face each other once their imagination ceases to exist – and reality strikes. Padme is still stood across from him at a distance, back in her restrictive tan clothing, with Vader back in his armour.

And they are aware that they're mourning the same dream.

Divenire - Ludovico Einaudi

(There are no lyrics to this song but every time I heard it, I pictured the imaginary kiss scene here at the end of this chapter, so I knew it was the one!)