1. In little moments here and there, I've referenced the genius that is Matthew Stover's Revenge of the Sith novelization. You saw it with dragon references in The Garage chapter, and again when Padmé accepted Threepio as a sentient being (as is the Naboo way in Stover's book). You'll see inspiration from his mastery again in a future chapter, but for those unaware, the "dragon" idea associated with Anakin comes from Stover's writing.
2. This chapter is heavy on the M-rated scale. It's been a long, angsty road for these two, and I'm sooooo not sorry for Anakin and Padmé finally getting to feel all the happy feels of first love. To give those who still wish for the T-rated version of this chapter, when you reach the sentence "Excellent forward thinking", jump down to "The depth of our kiss swept my soul away".
Thank you for the kind reviews. I sincerely cherish them. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 50. Dragon Fire
I want to know you moved and breathed in the same world with me.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald
If qualification is set by quantity of relationships, then far be it from me to title myself an expert in romance. I have but the one, true, deep love on my résumé. However, I have observed others, and that with my own experience has taught me this— the greatest love stories are not where one party saves the other, but where both rescue each other. Sometimes this is hard to perceive, because the salvation of one is more subtle, more beneath the surface than that of their partner.
Anakin accomplished the near impossible yet receives far less credit than he is due. He brought to life a lonely and famished Senator who was as obstinate in her pretend happiness as she was blind to its failings. He became my heartbeat. To me, it makes perfect sense that I define my life as before Anakin stepped off that elevator with Obi-Wan and after. We were each only half-alive, perhaps even less, until we found each other again.
We made a home in each other's eyes, lips— in the very cellular cohesion of our skins. Even the lightest of his touches would elicit a stirred pulse. I never got used to the sensation; I never had the chance to take it for granted. That kind of relaxed appreciation belongs to other wives of other husbands, ones who see their spouses for long enough intervals that they begin to experience the luxury of looking forward to space from them. War missions constantly kept us apart. We often had to stand in the same room in front of others, talking to and looking at one another like we were nothing more than casual friends. I may as well have been told to act like all color had been stripped from the world.
Every stolen seclusion was on borrowed time, and with never enough of it. There was never a sunset that dipped quickly enough to bring him to my apartment; never a sunrise that delayed long enough before he had to slip out.
I longed for Anakin's presence just as much in our third year of marriage as most cliché romantics do on day three. It's no wonder physical touch was such a sacred element to us. When you spend a forbidden courtship separated by obligations and a secret marriage separated by star systems, an eternity wouldn't be enough time to take each other's nearness for granted.
Scant and precious as it already seemed, we didn't know just how limited our time together truly was. We dreamt of decades but were handed shriveled ashes. And yet, I can comfort myself in knowing that when we touched, the exalted appreciation of doing so somehow came close to how it might've been if we'd known our fate.
We loved like we could fill lifetimes, yet we touched as if every contact were the first and the last. I don't want your pity any more than Anakin ever sought mine, but if you must give it— don't waste it in this area. We loved more fiercely in three years than some pairs do in thirty.
But, oh, what I would give to have had thirty.
The cold and abrasive elements of the rooftop did not favor a couple delirious with love. We knew we could not linger there forever. Our arduous test of self-control came once we decided to return to my building. For starters, during the flight, I had to sit as flushed up against my passenger door as possible. I knew very well that if I started the journey where I wanted to— sitting in Anakin's lap— I wouldn't remove myself in time before we started passing traffic. As elite of a selection as Anakin had made, he'd still chosen an open-top speeder, a decision which he cursed in crass Huttese more times than I could count on the ride back. He kept stealing ravenous looks at me, to the point where if I hadn't known he was such a skilled pilot, I might've feared we'd crash into a skyscraper. We rolled our eyes and giggled several times at my exile on the opposite side of the vehicle.
Well, I giggled. Anakin's smile was a dangerous mixture of mirth and rebellion; my wrist dodged his grab more than once when desire got the better of him and he almost pulled me across the console to his side. Some part of his rational brain must have won out each time, for surely he was letting me escape his grasp. His Jedi reflexes were far superior to mine, and if he truly wished to ensnare me, my evading never would've stood a chance.
At one point during this balancing act between magnetism and precaution, my unrelated curiosity peaked. I'd lifted the brown Jedi robe up as an impulsive barrier to one of Anakin's half-playful reaches. Dropping it, I asked, "When you gave me this before, why didn't you simply pull out of the traffic lane and park to take it off? Why ask me to take the controls and keep flying?"
He sighed and gave me a look. His deliberate smile deserved study in art classes. "Since when do we do things the easy way?"
My only reply was to let my own lips curve up as I held his stare. I knew by doing so I was inviting trouble. Unsurprisingly, our eye communication lasted long enough to inspire another sudden grab of his hand towards mine, and I squealed like a young woman in love as I eluded him again even though I didn't want to elude him at all.
The hangar bay of my building has non-humaniod security stationed on both the left and right wings of the entrance. Two large guards sit in each booth, each with six eyes that miss nothing. I nodded in the general direction of each guard as we approached long before I could actually see them, knowing full well that they could see us. The protective, invisible force field signaled it was cleared with a flash of a green light, and Anakin expertly maneuvered us in.
Once he'd parked the speeder in its original spot, my pilot hopped over the side without opening his own door, hurrying around to open mine. When he extended his hand to me, I put his Jedi robe into it first. So bewitched by him was I that even watching Anakin push his arms through the sleeves and fit the cloak neatly over his tunics brought a smile to my face. We were grinning wordlessly at each other when I took his renewed offered palm and he helped me out of my seat. I held on to his hand as we began to walk, momentarily forgetting where we were until a sound emitted from a few meters ahead of us. I snatched my hand out of his and stepped a full meter away, straightening my posture and burying my smitten smile. Anakin only responded with his lips turning down. We walked tentatively in the direction of the elevators, but we relaxed when we saw that the noise had only come from a cleaning droid removing marks on the floor. It didn't even acknowledge us as we passed by, and we shared a look of relief, levity returning to our strolls.
I continued our line towards the elevators until Anakin, walking just a step behind me, gravely commanded, "Wait." I stopped without question. It was illogical, but I almost expected to turn around and see a swarm of insectoids behind us. Even my legs prepared themselves to run.
But when I looked at Anakin, his smile was mischievous. "Come here."
He led us to a corridor off from the garage's elevators. The walls here were gray and narrow, and the light seemed to stretch to compensate for its sparse sources. I didn't have the faintest idea where we were going. My impromptu guide— who I was sure had never been here before either— took the first turn he came upon. But he only walked three steps until he stopped and spun the opposite direction, carrying an unsatisfied expression. Curious and amused, I trailed closely. He hurriedly took us towards the next branch off we came across. This time, Anakin continued— first timidly, then confidently, and I watched the back of his head as it tilted up every few steps. He was searching for something in the ceiling. Our new corridor lacked light even more so than the others, and the floor was noticeably less polished than the main hallway tile. Particles of dirt rolled under the nonexistent grip of my slippers.
Every time I thought to question what his goal was, I ultimately pressed my lips even closer together. The mystery and suspense only heightened my excitement of being in Anakin's company.
We walked for close to a minute before he came to a sudden stop. I watched from behind as he removed his Jedi robe. It soundlessly fell to a heap at his boot heels. Then I heard the lightsaber unhook from his utility belt, and I felt a rush of fear. Somehow, he'd encountered a foe ahead of us. However, he stunned me by crouching low and putting the weapon on the pile of brown fabric. Next, he slowly rose, turned, and faced me, his face unreadable in the shadows. At my best guess, we were in the middle of a long hallway, and by the signs posted on the wall every several meters, a maintenance hallway at that. Anakin moved towards me like a hunter stalking its prey, and a tremor went through me as I realized what he had been looking for in the ceiling during our journey— what I realized I hadn't seen any of in the last several paces. Cameras.
I ignored his slow walk and rushed myself into his ready arms. Once again, my dress was a flimsy obstruction to Anakin's explorations. Our lips engaged in a torrid battle, both of us the victors no matter who came out on top. In a move I was fast learning he responded extremely positively to, I nipped at his bottom lip with my teeth then sucked on it roughly.
He groaned in response, and his strong hands gripped around my thighs just under my bottom. I felt a swift rush of air as I was lifted off my feet. Within seconds, I was pressed between two hard surfaces— the wall at my back, and Anakin's solid chest at my front. I slid one hand underneath his layers of tunics as much the tightness between our bodies would allow, the other hand moving from his shoulders to the base of his neck and back again. Never breaking our kiss, and with me pinned sufficiently, he nimbly moved to hike the hem of my dress to up above my knees. With the new freedom of movement, I immediately spread my legs and wrapped my thighs around him, locking my ankles together and using their position on his rear to press him further into me.
So, this was why he'd removed his lightsaber.
Excellent forward thinking.
Hands moved up above my hips to knead my waist. Our tongues engaged with ferocity, but I let out a high-pitched moan of surrender into his mouth as both his grips found and squeezed my breasts.
He left my mouth to administer hot kisses to my cheeks, his lips making their way to my left ear. "Ri'dela cucha melea, Padmé." Unrecognized foreign tongue spoken in that low voice turned my insides to liquid. I lost the ability to form words. I could only make sounds— revelry from my lungs and throat no man had ever or would ever hear me emit, save Anakin.
He kissed and nipped his way back down my jawline while my nipples hardened under his circling touch. I could feel his hardness pressed against the damp cloth of my dress where my inner thighs met. As boldly as we'd explored each other on the rooftop, there were intimacies which had yet to be dared. Excited by my bravery as much as by the novelty of it all, I removed the hand caressing his skin under his tunics and snaked it down his abdomen between us. Anakin's airflow audibly hitched a second before my fingers disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants, then his whole body froze against me as I wrapped him in my hand. For a moment, neither of us breathed. In my pause before my instincts told me how to explore next, Anakin's thumbs resumed their delicious rotation around my erect buds. A gasp or a pant— at this point, the distinction lines were blurred beyond my caring— moved through my lips. It would've been easy to lose myself in his ministrations, but I refocused my attention on the length in my hold. I wanted to reap my pleasure in this moment by inflaming his.
He squeezed my breasts again but with new weakness, then Anakin's breath grew ragged as our joint attentions centered on the hand below his waistband. With a throaty groan, his forehead dropped into the crook of my neck. His huffs blew heated breath down my front. I rubbed my cheek against his soft hair. The inactive flesh and metal hands still grabbing my mounds began to tremble. I moved my grip up and down, and he croaked out my name in a strained exhale of air.
When I rubbed the tip of him with my thumb, he flew back into action. The hands on my breasts suddenly moved— one to capture my hand still researching his back, the other to fish mine out from his pants by the forearm. He raised our conjoined mess of palms and fingers high above my head with both of his. My body held the death clench of my thighs around his waist, and my back arched. Anakin ground his arousal against the apex of my thighs even more forcefully, and I saw red when I my eyelids fluttered closed. I opened them to find him watching me. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his, the damp skins almost sticking. I panted against his mouth, forcing my brain to remember language skills. "If it matters," I smiled hazily against his lips, my deep voice unrecognizable to myself, "I like your new arm."
Our separated lips caressed against each other in a breathy, exotic dance. Barely touching so as one could not call it kissing, yet close enough to where I could feel him grin in response. A shade of vulnerability flickered in his eyes. "It matters." A brief but raw kiss, and then he pulled back to the same short distance to smile at me with love. "It matters."
He sank low, worshiping my neck and collarbone with his lips, teeth, breath, and tongue, and I finally, completely lost the ability to remember sentence structure. He switched his grip, securing both my wrists in his artificial hand against the wall, and with his human hand he roamed to unexplored soft spots of my body. I cried out when he found my pool of wetness with his finger. Anakin halted, his eyes lifting to meet mine. He was checking to make sure the sound hadn't been provoked by pain. I answered his question with a demanding kiss that left no doubt as to my ready position on the brink of ecstasy.
When we pulled back, his eyes darkened at my exhibit of wanton need. "Qa zulur cha vantu," he purred, a possessive edge to his tone as he slipped another finger inside me. The words seemed to lift up from his chanting against my neck and thickly infiltrate the very air around us. A curse. A blessing. I didn't know. I didn't care.
"Yes," I panted. He stroked me leisurely, piloting me towards insanity. I was desperate for an anchor, so I fought my hands free against the wall. He let them go, and I grabbed his head. "Yes," my hands crawled through his hair, the nails digging into the hidden skin. His hot breath shot across the top of my breasts with every one of his ragged exhales. "Essë, essë," I panted, so far gone I was barely aware I'd slipped into my native tongue. His hand that wasn't moving inside me with quickening urgency came under my thigh, and he suddenly lifted me up only to adjust me even more deliciously against his hips, and I called out again. He moved against me now in a rhythm with his whole body, as if it were his member doing the thrusting into me, not his fingers.
"Ta qa zular cha'vantu, Padmé?" He peered up at the sight of me gasping and writhing with abandon in his arms. The shadows bounced off his face, contouring it like he was a creature from the darkness. He was relishing in this power he had over me, both the unfamiliar linguistic and the physical, and the more he basked in it, the more it drove me wild.
If Nabooian was to be the romantic conduit of our love, whatever guttural tongue he was drowning me in was surely to be its primal outlet. An answer rose from deep within, an understanding and response to his words that transcended language barriers and had nothing to do with the pleasure he was driving me to. "Yes." Another gasp of air as I sunk further under abandon's pull. "Forever."
I was in so much need I felt pain. The coil inside tightened to within seconds of snapping. Love is compassionate, but lust is unapologetically selfish. There was no Senate, no Jedi Order, no seconds or matters or people that existed beyond Anakin steering me to rapture. In that moment, I would've gladly burned all the institutions I held dear to the ground if he'd demanded them as payment for release.
I let out a cry of protest as he removed his hand from between my legs and stood straighter. Then I celebrated again as passionate lips dominated mine, sealing my vow as if he feared I would retract it. Both his hands— one of them slick— enshrined around my face. Matching the move and his intensity of the kiss, I likewise cradled his cheeks under my palms, my hands forming a prayer fold around my church. I had no intention of revoking my answer, then or ever.
The depth of our kiss swept my soul away, but my lingering body painfully noticed that he'd stopped moving against me. I was sure our profound lip lock had been the preamble to the ultimate milestone. Why did I suddenly sense that wasn't the intention?
"Anakin," I whined against his lips. I twisted underneath him encouragingly, eager to resume the rhythm we'd had. His response was too much of what I wanted— he pressed himself against me to the point where I couldn't move.
He dropped his head and growled into my neck, and my already rapid pulse somehow sped even faster at the animalistic sound. But his voice was resolute, if hoarsely gruff. "My wife deserves better than a grimy maintenance hallway."
"No. No!" My heart sang at his preemptive use of the title wife, but I wanted to rip my hair out. Or his. My fingers were closer to his follicles than to my own. "This was your idea!" I let out a strangled yell. "Why do you do this to me?!"
Anakin laughed tritely at my frustration. His body was shaking with palpable restraint far more than from humor. His grip, softer this time, returned to my waist as he removed the pressure on my hips and inner thighs by stepping back a little. His face was still buried in my collarbone. He took in a deep, vocal breath. After a beat, the air rushed out in what was essentially a shout. I watched and listened to him fight for a control I didn't want him to find. "I'm sorry." He lifted his head up finally, insulting me as he put a quick peck on the tip of my nose. "I just couldn't let you go upstairs without putting my hands on you one last time."
I tried again to persuade him, this time letting my body do the convincing. I arched my back, sensually pushing my breasts towards him while simultaneously moving my hips forward against his suggestively. I could still feel his hardness, and thought I could yet win, but he was fast to push my hips back and hold them motionless in a steady grip. I threw my head back against the wall, ignoring the pain from the hard bump. I used his own words from the rooftop against him, sourcing the words from my body as poignantly as he had from his soul. "Are you trying to break me?"
He hovered his face a few centimeters away from mine, meeting my eye line directly. "Trust me," he whispered. "This kills me more than it kills you."
"Not. Possible." But I saw the determination in his gaze and knew it was hopeless. Anakin's love and worship for me won out over everything, yet again— even over his own bodily desires.
I finally let out a moan-sigh of agreement, reluctantly understanding where he was coming from. As much as my body screamed, "Anywhere! Anytime! Right now!", my otherworldly love for this man wanted better for our first time.
I unwrapped my still shaking legs from around him and he tenderly set me down on my feet. We continued to hold each other like lifelines. We were willing to stop what we'd been doing, but we were not near ready to break physical contact.
Just taking his hand while getting out of the speeder had set my skin on fire. I suddenly dreaded our return upstairs more than ever. And after… We both we wanted to get married, but beyond that— how were we supposed to enjoy any semblance of a honeymoon? Were we to be deprived of that too?
My fingertips caressed his jaw. "Ani… I want more for us than a hasty exchange of vows on the lower levels. I don't want to adopt disguises and pay off someone who claims he's a cleric."
He shook his head. "That won't happen," he promised. "I'll make sure you get the wedding you deserve."
I don't know about deserving, but what I wanted was a ceremony with my friends and family present. I already knew that wasn't going to happen. But surely we could find something better than the scenario I'd described to him… "But how?" I went back to my original line of thought, "And after?" I moved my hands to paint them up and down his forearms. "If we can even sneak away long enough to have the ceremony, how do we find time after to be together as husband and wife? Real time, not precarious minutes in a Red District hotel." I continued my knead of his arms, indicating my desires without trying to restart what we'd somehow just found the self-control to stop. "Are we going to have to endure these start-stops for weeks before we can consummate our marriage?"
As willing as I'd just been to cross that milestone with Anakin up against the wall, the plausible chance of it actually being our future marital bed was a mighty step further than what I'd thought secrecy would require of us. For the first time, I took a real, morose look around the dark corridor. Crumpled trash lined the floors. Something black and furry and possibly dead was huddled on the ground a few meters away. A distant overhead light flickered in the distance. I was pretty sure only maintenance droids roamed this area, not sentiment beings, but still. Was this to be our honeymoon suite?
I took one look at the man in front of me, and I knew I'd do it. For Anakin. Because if we could be married tomorrow, even by the most questionable creature in the pits of Coruscant, I would go anywhere after with him, no matter how low bar.
It wasn't the physical desire for release. It was the need to share that level of closeness and vulnerability with the man I loved, in the way only intimate engagement allows. We'd shared words of love. We done things for each other out of love. Now, I wanted to express it by gazing into his eyes as we explored a connection that went beyond reason.
I just loved him— so deeply it made my soul ache.
As usual, Anakin's calm tone soothed my worries. "My love, listen to me." He lifted his warm hand to stroke my cheek. "Have faith. I'll get us off Coruscant, and I'll do it as quickly as possible."
"Off Coruscant?" My bleak vision of the two of us, hooded and hiding in the lower levels of the capital, abated somewhat.
He chuckled wryly. "Well, I don't think it's a good idea to be on-planet, much less a couple sectors away from the Temple when we finally, ah." He smiled, but surprisingly— given all that had just transpired— it was shy.
His revelation in the cafeteria notwithstanding, I wondered again what, if any, official teachings the Jedi gave on sex. I tried picturing Master Yoda giving a sermon to a classroom full of teenage Padawans.
"Let's just say, when I'm around you, I try to mask my feelings in the Force when other Jedi are nearby. But I don't think I'm doing a good job. At all. When I'm," he smiled more sultrily now, "celebrating our marriage with you, I don't want to hold back." His eyes darkened, and I felt him tense. "In any way."
Was he trying to drive me up a wall with all this arousal? The concrete surface still brushing up against my back answered with a resounding Yes.
I searched his eyes, knowing we needed to find a solution and get out of this hallway before we lost control again. "What do we do?"
He looked me over, his eyes taking in the skin on my chest and neck. I knew they were glistening with sweat. In our frenzy, the neckline off my dress had been pulled low to give him better access to my bare skin, and the tops of my breasts were on ample display. He examined my cheeks, my parted lips. No doubt they still flushed red. The more he silently looked me over, the more I did the same to him, and the tighter my fingers gripped his shoulders. Gods, I could never get enough of this man.
The lips of said addiction twisted themselves into a half-smile, half-frown. He let out an aggravated moan from deep in his chest. "First," he sighed, dramatically. "I step away, before I ignore all this wisdom I'm sprouting and take you right here." I understood and agreed with the sentiment, but his surprising last words nevertheless aroused me, and my body cried out in disappointment as he backed up. To help us both, I adjusted my dress, especially my neckline. The opposite hem flowed evenly around my ankles once more. "Next, we figure out how we both get off-planet for as long as we can."
I bit the inside of my cheek. "Not only that. Who can we trust to marry us?"
Anakin scowled. "A story like this would be a treasure sale to the tabloids."
The answer came to me suddenly. Of course. "Naboo."
He raised an eyebrow. "Naboo? ...Where everyone knows your face?"
"Even better." It was almost too perfect. Too wonderful. Abruptly, I wanted to cry tears of joy. "Varykino."
Anakin looked as fevered by the name of our villa as I felt. "Keep going."
"You said it yourself. You're still assigned to protect me, at least until Obi-Wan returns. It makes complete sense why I would be heading home." With guilt, I realized I should have thought of this sooner. My thoughts had been consumed by Anakin since awakening on The Credence. "With a civil war starting, the Queen will want meetings with her advisers and delegates from neighboring systems— and with her Senator who was there at the outbreak. I can send word to Brother Luke to meet us at Varykino— we'll go there first— and by the time Obi-Wan is calling you back to Coruscant—"
"We'll already be married, everyone else none the wiser." A beautiful smile graced his face, and he stepped in to hold me closer. "And I'll stall as long as I can before I get back on a ship, or until Theed starts hailing you… giving us a chance at a private honeymoon in the most perfect place we could have it." He looked down at me with adoring appreciation for my plan. "This just might work."
I raised my right hand and placed it on his cheek. He angled his head to sweetly kiss the inside of my wrist. "It has to," I whispered. He leaned in for a tender meeting of our lips, and my hand moved to the nape of his neck, pressing him to me. I was breathless when he suddenly pulled back.
"We can trust Brother Luke?" Concerned eyes probed mine. "Administering marriage rites is a far cry from keeping silent about you being in the area."
I nodded confidently but asked, "Do you have a better idea?"
"No," he admitted.
Smiling, I moved on, already feeling the eagerness to reunite with him after he'd have to take his leave from me on Naboo. "I'll make my way back to Coruscant as soon as I can."
"Let's hope I haven't been sent off-planet on a mission by then."
A foreboding sense of what our reality would be for the foreseeable future brought gloom to my thoughts. It would not just be a patchwork of stolen moments on Coruscant, but the strong likelihood of Anakin being off-planet more than ever before. In war zones. I couldn't always be on the capital planet waiting for him— there would be humanitarian visits, diplomatic negotiations on other planets, visits home to update the Queen and visit with my family. How many times would we have to endure barely missing each other due to mismatching schedules? He was still only an apprentice, but that wouldn't last forever. And even if he stayed a student throughout the duration of the war, Master Kenobi was a respected, brave, and legendary Jedi who'd be wanted for the most dangerous of missions. The thought of Anakin being sent to our front lines was bad enough, but with Obi-Wan, he'd probably be ordered behind the enemy's.
I pulled myself out of my terrors and back into the present moment. I remembered that Anakin was very much alive and safe with me now, his fingers leaving invisible prints all over my cheeks and jawline. I stroked his short hair, tucking his Padawan braid behind his ear. Even without him in my life, I had countless reasons to want to find a diplomatic solution to this conflict as quickly as possible. But now, with the life of the man I loved on the line— my soon-to-be husband— my determination would know no bounds.
He'd been watching my face keenly. As if reading my thoughts, he pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one that spoke of unfathomable love. I clung him close to me, already feeling like a military wife lamentably sending her soldier off to war. All too soon, he broke the kiss, moving to rest his forehead on mine again. "I miss you already, Padmé." His lips twitched. "I've been missing you, ever since I last saw you. Since the moment I woke up in that bed. Alone." By the way we held and breathed each other in, anyone watching would think we'd already been apart for month, years.
"Oh, Anakin," I breathed shakily, moving my head from side to side. "You shut me out. These two days have been misery."
"Everyone who saw me thought I was still depressed over the arm. I was walking the halls of the Temple like a ghost."
I remembered the dark, hooded figure he'd appeared to me as tonight. I felt sick to my stomach as I imagined the thoughts he'd suffered since coming to my cabin doorstep after passing Jurue. So many torturous hours had passed since then. Time we would never get back. "Never doubt me, my love." I placed my hands on his chest, over his heart. "And never disappear on me like that again."
"I won't," he added to his list of promises. "I won't." A kiss to consummate the oath. "Come on," he stepped back, but extended his hand out to me. "Let's get you upstairs before they think you've kidnapped me."
I smiled as I took his hand, interlocking my fingers with his. We started making our way back down hallway slowly, side by side. "Wouldn't it be you kidnapping me?"
He laughed, shaking his head. "Have you met you?"
We didn't speak anymore as we walked, both silently preparing ourselves for what was about to happen. Gradually, Anakin reduced his speed till he came to a full stop. I peered up above us in the dim lighting, seeing what he'd marked on our way in— a camera, albeit a restricted model. Instead of it capturing a 360-degree view, it was singularly pointed in the direction of the opening of the hallway, which was still another rounded turn away. Clearly, building security were more concerned with intruders advancing towards the maintenance rooms than emerging from them.
Anakin must've sensed better than I could that we were on the cusp of being within sight of the camera. He raised our tight clasp to his lips, placing a kiss to my knuckles. Lowering our hold, he then gave my hand one last squeeze before initiating a slight tug that pulled me forward just a fraction. I took the silent cue to start walking ahead of him. At the very last second, our hands fell out of contact, and I fought to keep myself composed as we proceeded the rest of the way back to the garage.
Standing next to him on a silent ride up to my apartment— unable to touch him while the security camera watched us from the elevator's corner— seemed unbearable. But this ride was to be very different from our last one, and not just because our own attitudes had done complete turns. For better or worse, a stumbling party of three drunks was also waiting to catch a ride on the turbolift. They were dressed in the bright neon colors of nightlife. Arms were flung over shoulders in a line, keeping each other standing while simultaneously threatening to tip the whole group over with every exaggerated movement. The trio greeted us with cheers as we walked closer like we were all old friends, though I was sure I'd never seen any of them before. They reeked of alcohol, but I was grateful for their far-gone stupors. Anakin and I weren't exactly tempting fate by waiting for a turbolift together, but I was still relieved that certainly none of these inebriated carousers would remember seeing us by morning.
As the elevator stopped on the hangar floor, the trio tumbled in ahead. Anakin went to the left side near one of door panels, I to the other, and the intoxicated group stood in a relaxed huddle between and behind us.
"Which floor?" Anakin addressed the taller of the swaying bunch. I suppressed a smile when the green-skinned male kept a straight face and answered for the floor just two levels above us. It was surprisingly good judgment on their part— in the state they were in, I wouldn't have trusted them walking up two flights of stairs either.
On the opposite side of the lift, I applied my thumbprint to the scanner on a separate panel, which would order and permit the elevator to stop on my private floor. This bypassed restrictions which would otherwise be lifted for visitors who'd checked with the security desk in the building's lobby— an extra feature for the most wealthy or influential residents with their own floors. The move didn't go unnoticed, and the trio "Ooooo"d behind me in unison before there was a crescendo into giggles. "She must be important," one of them failed to whisper, obviously thinking he was being subtle. The elevator's doors closed.
"And he," another, the young humanoid girl— who was also unsuccessful at being stealthy— added, "the cute one is dressed like a J-" she hiccupped. "Jedi."
My forehead drew in with slight panic. Maybe my estimation of their cognitive abilities had fallen short. I had to remind myself that there was nothing necessarily untoward about me and Anakin riding an elevator up to my private apartment in the middle of the night. Right?
I looked down at my feet. I was still wearing house slippers. I tried to imagine what my tousled hair looked like.
But of course, we were already arriving at their floor. Too late to try any form of damage control, if that would even be a good idea to attempt. Suddenly, however, the doors that had just started to part froze momentarily before softly closing again. I looked at the buttons on the panel. Nothing was amiss.
What the…?
Instinct drove me to immediately look over at Anakin. He halfway turned towards the center of the turbolift, his chest open to me even as his vision focused on the small group behind us. His human hand rose to waist level, the fingers moving as if undulating in a wind.
"There's nothing to see here." His clear, calm voice filled the box. I watched the faces of the drunk trio go from befuddlement at the behavior of the elevator door to blank stillness. "You're in the elevator tonight by yourselves."
"We're in the elevator by ourselves," the yellow-skinned girl repeated, as if in a trance. The other two did the same, each a half-second behind the other.
"You want to go to bed and never drink alcohol again."
"I want to go to bed and never drink alcohol again." Once more, there was a belated yet calm repetition from all members of the neon party. At this instruction, I pointedly looked at the Jedi, surprised and concerned. His face was serious, but when he noticed my stare, he caught my eye and flashed a grin, shooting me a distinct wink.
Then, apparently satisfied, Anakin stepped out of their way and the doors opened. They shuffled forward silently yet upright, a lingering sway in their steps.
Barely, I waited for the doors to close before I turned to face him. "They want never want to drink again?"
He stared straight ahead, a shameless smirk on his face. "Someday, I'll tell you about Obi-Wan's mission to save the substance abuse users of the universe one by one." He suddenly seemed even more pleased. "Or, three at a time, as it were."
"Substance abuse users?" My tone was more than a little reproving. I didn't like the notion that one accidental, badly timed encounter with a Jedi possibly meant three beings had been deprived of the choice to control their own alcohol consumption. Certainly, the general populace would have issue with such a policy, as would the bar owners who made their living by appeasing their patrons. It wasn't a duty given to the Jedi Order by any welfare committee I'd heard of. I wasn't much of a social drinker myself, but for the sakes of the trio's independent thoughts and free will, I hoped Anakin's mind trick wouldn't have lasting standing.
But he merely shrugged at my rebuke. "Spend ten years around an opinionated Jedi Master and some things are bound to seep in."
"If you ever do something like that to me, you'll have one less human arm."
By the look on his face, my threat had no effect. Indeed, he only gave me another wink. He was too charming for his own good, and it felt wonderful to see him happy— instead of the shadowy figure who'd sulked up to me on veranda earlier. I'd not forgotten my disapproval of his overreaching trick, but I couldn't help but smile back at him. Love is a hell of a drug.
"I've never done that to three minds, all of different species, all at the same time before." He smiled smugly. "At least at that, are you impressed?" He didn't wait for my answer. "I'm impressed."
I shook my head, failing to smother my light-hearted expression. It faltered when I saw we were getting closer to my floor. Seconds were now all that stood between us and a forced separation for the night.
"Let's hope they were using an automatic pilot system as they flew home. A taxi wouldn't have dropped them off in the garage."
I hadn't thought of that. I stole a glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "Have you ever flown a speeder on autopilot, Master Skywalker?"
He fixed me with a lopsided grin. "Blasphemy. It would be an insult to my abilities."
His utter failure to hide his cockiness was something I was long used to by now, and I laughed again even as the door opened. With the clear sound of happiness flowing, the guard— still posted inside my apartment's entry lobby— seemed more surprised to see Anakin's beaming face and to hear my laughter than he was just to see us at all. We must have looked night-and-day different from our serious demeanors he'd borne witness to before. As much as I'd more or less let the mind trick in the elevator go, I didn't want to give Anakin any ideas about using the same technique on my staff. Besides, he couldn't influence the minds of everyone who ever saw us together. I mustered him out of the elevator quickly before he found a perceived flaw in the sentry that Anakin took upon himself to alter. "Come along, Master Skywalker," I urged, hoping he would pick up on the thin warning on my tone.
I was relieved when Anakin only gave the security guard a friendly smile as he passed, as if he'd never intimidated him into rigid fright.
To my surprise, I rounded the wide archway to find Dormé half-sprawled on the yellow couch. She was near-horizontal, one socked foot on the bench with the other on the floor. A perched data pad on her chest hid her eyes from us.
Never before had my heart dropped into despair at the sight of a handmaiden. But with her unexpected presence, Anakin and I had just lost whatever private goodbye for the night we might've been able to capture.
"Good evening, Dormé."
Wide eyes peeked at us over the data pad. She must've been engrossed in whatever she'd been reading if she hadn't heard us disembarking from the elevator. "My lady!" She hurried to her feet and wrapped her night robe's sash around her waist. "I thought you'd gone to bed." She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of my bedroom, as if my current form was an impostor and she somehow expected the real Padmé to emerge from the shadows of the curved corridor.
Dormé's eyes returned to scan me up and down, her blatant shock hardly in check. I forced a smile as I remembered how she'd last seen me. A hollowed out, pitiful creature— one who only bore a wisp of a resemblance to the formidable Senator— wasting away in the Senator's bed. I knew I didn't look near as flushed as I must have in the maintenance hallway a few minutes ago, but I must've seemed like a different person from the last time my handmaiden saw me. Her focus jumped back and forth between me and Anakin, and I could only imagine the pieces she was putting together in her mind.
Considering the very late hour, I gestured to her data pad in a quick hope to distract her. "Couldn't sleep?"
Her gaze lingered on Anakin before replying. I couldn't see his face, as he was standing at a slight angle at a respectable distance behind me. I prayed his expression wasn't giving anything more away. Finally, she shifted suspects and met my eye. "I was just reading over the latest opinion reports, milady."
"What's the word?"
"Well, those who supported the MCA seem to be enjoying the irony that Naboo, courtesy of Representative Binks, ended up voting the Chancellor emergency powers and putting the army in motion. So, Naboo as a whole has picked up points in those circles."
"And in others?"
She grimaced. "It's still fairly split. Those who opposed the MCA alongside you haven't released glorious statements celebrating Chancellor Palpatine's new powers." Her eyes dropped. "Many of them are uncharacteristically… quiet."
This was disturbing. It was critically important that the public and their politicians made it abundantly clear the full shine of democracy would return as soon as possible. Now was not the time for meekness.
Anakin, silent up to this point, took a step forward and spoke. "I'm sure the Chancellor will keep his word to the Republic. When I was in my hospital bed, I watched the speech he gave to the Senate— the one right after the vote. He promised to lay down his powers when the crisis abates. Until then, I think he'll do an admirable job in his new post."
I was surprised by the defensiveness of Palpatine in Anakin's tone. "It's not a new post, Ani. It's a temporary weight of extra responsibilities— responsibilities the Senate will be sure to free him from as soon as the worst of the threat has passed."
Anakin's eyes bounced between me and Dormé. For once, he clamped his mouth shut with a nod. But his eyes showcased he'd only gone silent with his opinion, not modified it.
I turned back to my handmaiden. "I would like us to arrange a trip home."
"Yes, milady. When would you like to depart?"
I bit my lip before reminding myself to look as neutral as possible. "Tomorrow."
Her pitch jumped. "Tomorrow?" Her sharp eyes darted between me and Anakin once more. But her voice was an even keel when she continued, "Of course. And… are we all venturing to Naboo?"
Luckily, Anakin had this one. "Senator Amidala is still under the protection of the Jedi Order." For how many hours left, we couldn't know, but we were going to make them count.
Apparently, Dormé couldn't resist poking the nexu. Her voice was deceptively light. "I thought protection was a job for local security, not Jedi. Overkill, no?"
Her target rocked on his heels. His blue eyes flashed to me briefly, humor and vitality shimmering in his depths. Anakin lived for challenges, whether from a lightsaber, a podracing track, or with parried words.
"Well," he smiled. "I am only a Padawan, after all. As important as the Senator is to the Republic, Master Yoda has other obligations this week."
Anyone who would buy that Anakin Skywalker thought of himself as lowly enough to suffice for anything needed to have their head checked.
His mood became more serious. He directed his question to Dormé. "Will there be starfighters in Senator Amidala's escort?"
"At least two."
"Proton torpedo armaments?"
"N-1 Nubians. Top of the line."
He nodded, ever the protector. "Good."
Suddenly realizing the similarity between the Nubian patrol ships and the speeder he'd selected in the garage, I couldn't resist interjecting somewhat foolishly, and not very Senator-like, "Anakin prefers that color of yellow on anything that flies."
He crafted a smile built just for me. "That I do."
"Will you be piloting one of the fighters, then?"
By the Gods, Dormé.
Anakin hesitated. "As much as I would truly enjoy getting behind the controls of a Nubian fighter once again…" His smile crested, and I had a moment of flashback to the nine-year-old boy who won the Boonta Eve Classic and saved a planet. "I would rather retain my proximity to the Senator, just in case."
Good answer.
Dormé bowed her head, first only in acknowledgment to Anakin, and then much more ceremonially to me. "I'll have everything arranged by tomorrow." She smiled one last time. "Sleep well."
With that, she turned on her heel and headed in the direction of her bedroom. I couldn't believe our luck. I wouldn't have guessed that Dormé would excuse herself before Anakin and I had to bid each other goodnight— not with the curiosity and suspicion practically dripping off her face.
But I wasn't going to waste precious seconds scrutinizing her motives or— better— potential lack thereof. I turned and gave Anakin a beaming smile, one he was already returning. "Passing on piloting a N-1 Nubian, are we?"
He made a comical, twisted expression in mock-anguish. "Do you know it has a Monarc C-4 hyperdrive?"
"I do. Thank you for your sacrifice."
He looked like he wanted to pat himself on the back, but he answered, "Meh. Monitoring a fighter in hyperspace isn't that much more exciting than monitoring a yacht. At least on the yacht, there will be space to stretch my legs."
"And you'll have company on the yacht."
The light of his eyes matched that of his smile. "And I'll have company on the yacht."
As we'd talked, we'd moved around the center of the room in a kind of dance, like magnets— one moment drawn closer to each other, the next conscious enough to pull away. This repeated itself in gradual movement twice.
But we ultimately came to a standstill, facing one another. He'd stopped at one end of the couches while I stood across from him on opposite side, the glass table between us. I clasped my hands together in front of my waist, wringing them with agitation. He regarded me solemnly, all light extinguished in his blue pools. It was time.
"I—" My mouth hung open for a moment before I closed it again. This should have been easy. I was going to see him as soon as I woke up. He was literally, officially assigned to stay by my side during waking hours. And as quickly as it could be arranged, we were to be en route to Naboo, where we'd return to our sacred lakeside retreat and become husband and wife in all manners of the term.
Yet I felt a wave of longing rise up in me, and I couldn't make myself turn to walk into my bedroom.
How, how, how am I supposed to do this during a war when I can't even say goodbye to him long enough to fall asleep?
Anakin seemed to be engaging in his own person tug-of-war against his body, one second looking like he was about to start towards me, the next hauling himself back. Eventually, his eyes flickered with intention, and he tilted his head towards the balcony. I moved with him, both of us crossing towards the glass. He got to the panel first and pressed the button to raise the tempered barrier. A light gust of cold wind brushed over me, raisin the hair on my exposed arms. He was removing his cloak and handing it to me before I had a second to question whether or not it was a good idea to take it. Burying my arms into his warm sleeves, I joined him at the farthest point on the balcony, layering the front folds of brown fabric over my chest. I probably looked like a child being engulfed by a giant's garment.
The owner of the robe pointedly looked at me, then at where the panel button was inside with inquiring eyes. He'd lifted a two-ton door to break into the Geonosis factory. Of course he could "press" a button from just a few meters away with his abilities.
But I shook my head in answer. I, too, wanted the extra privacy closing the glass partition would afford, but we were in the infantile stages of our covert life, and I was hesitant to be too daring too quickly— even in my own home. I didn't want to have to come up with a lie to explain why Anakin and I were talking on the balcony behind a glass that could've only been closed if the Jedi had gone to the trouble of lowering it.
Instead, we simply positioned ourselves as far away from the archway as possible, both of us leaning on the banister and standing as close to one another as we dared.
I resisted the urge to reach out and take his hand. "Where are you going to sleep? Given the assassin is dead, would the couch seem a little overprotective?"
"Not necessarily. Dooku is still out there. He sent one bounty hunter after you. He could send another, Padmé."
"Count Dooku has bigger issues than me right now."
"I'll start taking that chance after he's dead."
"Captured, Anakin," I stressed. "Even Dooku deserves a fair trial. We want to bring the Separatists back into the fold as willingly as they will come. This isn't a quest to conquer— there has to be healing when this conflict ends if there is to be lingering peace after." The enduring goal was to reach agreement over the negotiation table, not break the Separatists into submission. I had to believe diplomacy was still the best way forward. Even fighting on a Geonosian battlefield had not changed me so much. If anything, such an event only cements a pacifist's beliefs.
Despite my rebuttal, Anakin was gazing at me with a gentle smile. Its sight brought a feeling of tranquility to my own heart.
"What is it?"
Even with that dreamy look on his face, Anakin remarked, "Jurue was right about one thing."
Surprise lifted my features. "I thought we weren't talking about him anymore."
"One last mention?"
I could deny those eyes nothing. "What was Jurue right about?"
"You would make an excellent Supreme Chancellor." I made a face, so he hurried to add, "I mean it. You've seen the system from the outside and from within. You haven't been corrupted by it. You're intelligent. You command loyalty without even asking for it. People love you. You have the strength and patience of a Grand Master. You have brilliant ideas, you're stubborn but wise, and although I don't always like it, you're very good at putting the people first. You should be Supreme Chancellor one day."
His enthusiasm in his declaration was genuinely heart-warming, even though he spoke of the impossible. "Ani, trying to hide a marriage as a Senator is going to be difficult enough. Trying to hide a marriage to a Jedi while Supreme Chancellor…" I shook my head. "That's reaching too far. Not to mention, I would be a hypocrite every time I opened my mouth and claimed to speak for truth."
He grimaced and shuffled his weight underneath him. "I don't like the idea that I can ascend in my Jedi career, but our marriage will hinder yours."
I couldn't resist lightly touching his hand before banishing my fingers back into the folds of his/my sleeve. "I have everything I want."
"But surely you have ideas on how you want things to be run? What you would do differently?"
I rolled my eyes and meagerly laughed. "Well, I dare you to find any politician who's been doing this for a decade and doesn't form ideas on how they'd change some things, but—"
Anakin smiled like he'd uncovered a secret he'd suspected all along. "See? I knew it."
"But that's not how democracy works. One person can only suggest ideas. It takes a body of representatives to adopt them." I peeked over my shoulder at the reception room, relieved to still see it was empty. With assurance blindly fueled by yearning, I inched closer to him on the balcony. "Supreme Chancellorship is not in my future, Anakin— but with you in it, I have no desire for it to be."
"We're young." Though quiet, he nevertheless declared like it was an announcement. "This war may change things and reverberate through the government in ways we can't foresee. Who knows? Maybe, in a couple decades, the galaxy might be ready for a Supreme Chancellor married to someone on the Jedi Council."
I smiled at my Padawan fiancé and raise an eyebrow. "The Council?"
He shrugged and rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. "One belated promotion at a time."
My own smile grew. I was drunk on his presence. "Bodyguard to husband seems like a nice promotion."
He leaned further on the banister, bringing his face closer to mine. We were in dangerous territory. Our lips obviously had no clue their narrowing wasn't a smart idea, at least not right now.
His eyes traced tattoos over my features. "I have a favor to ask."
I sighed heavily, my gaiety decreasing. "I already considered it, Anakin. I can't cover the cameras the one night we're both here, not when Dormé and a guard have already seen you. Typho will learn of your presence by morning if he hasn't already, and then there will be more questions than answers if I cover the cameras again—"
"What? No, that's not what I was going to talk about." His lips broke out into an even wider grin. "But I'm glad your mind was there too."
I frowned, puzzled but amused. "What were you talking about? What favor?"
He bit down on his bottom lip, the full one. My favorite one. "I have a request for what you pack tomorrow. They're pieces you've worn before."
A smile I couldn't have suppressed if the entire HoloNet press corps was there erupted across my cheeks. "Oh?"
He swallowed and licked his lips. I pushed my elbow into the flat top of the balcony, anchoring my body to keep it from lunging at him.
"Your swimsuit. The one you wore to the island."
I tilted my head and smiled. "Easy enough. I believe it's still there. I told you I'd leave the swimsuits behind."
"Check," he abruptly urged, his eyes pressing. "Double check before we leave that it didn't make it back here."
"I will." I was absolutely confident I hadn't seen it in my suitcases since leaving Varykino, but I'd rummage through my apartment drawers again just to be sure. "What else?"
That hungry look consumed me again, towing me out towards forbidden waters. "The black one you wore by the fireplace."
This surprised me for all of two seconds— two seconds while I recalled the tragic overcast of that night's conversations— until I remembered I'd still been viewed through the eyes of a nineteen-year-old male. "Alright." My tone was absolutely teasing. "Gloves too?"
His tone was absolutely serious. "Gloves too."
I fought in vain to keep the heat out of my cheeks, and out of other parts of my body. "Anything else?"
The seductive flames in his eyes that beckoned me cooled into a more lovesick, pious affection. "And the… a, ah, well. The dress that—" Anakin, suddenly facing the unfamiliar task of describing women's clothing when all he'd known were Jedi tunics for ten years, seemed to struggle with his words.
Taking pity on him, I asked, "Where were we in this particular memory?"
His features softened again into reverential sweetness. There was a long moment as we lingered in each other's gaze, and I realized I knew the answer before he provided it.
"At the terrace. When we first arrived at the villa." Anakin's eyes trailed over my face and hair, as if he was seeing me again as I'd looked that day. "I'd never seen anything more beautiful in my life."
If the temptation to touch him before hadn't killed me, this moment of resistance surely would. The breeze picked up his Padawan braid; I watched it play with it on his shoulder. I was jealous of its ability to caress him with such liberty and ease.
The words fell off my lips like a poem. "Ana ondóme."
Anakin didn't even take a moment to look confused. We'd discussed the romantic, Naboo phrase to describe someone who'd given another their life's most important kiss only once, in the meadow. There was no indication in his eyes that he'd forgotten the fleeting seconds of conversation.
But his eyes were searching mine for an answer all the same. He swallowed, seemingly nervously. "Tonight?"
I shook my head, leaning closer into him, submitting to his gravity. "No," I whispered. My eyelids were lowering as my mouth neared his like it was coming home. "At the terrace. At the balustrade."
{Here everything is soft… and smooth.}
I was inebriated on his nearness— his face encompassing my vision, his intoxicating smell emanating from his cloak around my body and his own body's proximity. He looked to be grimacing in pain as he breathed, "Padmé…"
With a control I would not have thought him capable of, he halted first, then pulled back. Empty air met my lips.
Anakin took a steadying inhale, his eyes never leaving mine. A smile tugged the corners of his lips up.
Appreciation that he'd been the one to rescue us from potential disaster flooded me only after disappointment and longing had its way with my heart first. I eyed him and shook my head. "What's so funny?"
He let out a rush of air. Despite his grin, his graveled voice spoke of genuine worry. "If we can't steal some moments of privacy on the flight to Naboo, I might actually go insane. That's too many hours without touching you."
I let out a strained laugh of complete understanding. After tonight, being in close quarters on the yacht with Anakin whilst being surrounded by Dormé, Captain Typho, and guards sounded like an endurance test I already wanted to forfeit. My Amidala mask had never prepared me for this. Even the promise of a secluded honeymoon— something I still needed to figure out how to pull off after neatly ditching my handmaiden and captain of security, not too mention clearing Paddy Accu off the property he lived on as groundskeeper— wasn't going to help the pending torture of treating Anakin like the professional, detached Jedi bodyguard he'd never been.
Making the status of my composure so much more difficult to maintain, Anakin's voice dipped as he asked, "What kind of nightgown are you going to wear in there?"
"What?"
"I'd like to know." I lost my breath as his focus traveled across my collarbone, down over my breasts, below my torso. So thoroughly did I feel that he had undressed me with his eyes that I had to fight again to remember where we were. At my inability to speak, he smiled and murmured, "Long sleeves? Some thin straps?" His look became downright dangerous. "Something sheer?"
I didn't own anything sheer in my nightly wardrobe. Rapidly, I tried to think if I had time to acquire such attire before we reached the lake house.
How much can I ask of Dormé without giving too much away?
A war was brewing, or— in all reality— had already been unleashed. But I allowed myself the exciting anticipation of a romantic getaway. After all, at the age of twenty-four, it would be my very first.
But I needed to get off that balcony before my self-control went to sleep before the rest of my body did. However, feeling brazen enough to tempt fate one last time, I smiled at my future husband in the way I imagined a wife with sensual promises would. "Watch the cameras and find out."
With that, I walked away from him, maintaining eye contact over my shoulder until my slow stroll took me through the archway. As I was passing the next large window, I looked back to gauge his reaction through the glass. He was still in his same pose, leaning on the balcony, but watching my every move with blazing eyes. The desire and arousal in them were palpable, shooting a current through me. Smiling in satisfaction, I continued my way into my room.
And there my imprisonment began.
All we wanted to do was be with each other. Touch each other. Knowing Anakin was just beyond the corridor, so close yet so far, consumed with wanting me just as as I much as I did him— I've never tossed and turned in a bed so much in my life. Every part of me, emotional and physical, longed for him. I missed him with a desperation that went beyond the irrational and the ridiculous, in the way only a lovesick creature in the throes of early idolatry can. Without exaggeration, I prevented myself from going to him or calling out for him well over a hundred times.
At one point, I heard a strained sigh-groan echo down the hall from the reception room; more than once, I listened to a pair of boots pacing its carpet. It both helped and hurt to know he was struggling as much as I. I could practically see my beloved Anakin as he wrestled with his own self-restraint. His fists would be clenched. His shoulders would be dramatically cutting their way through the air, as they did whenever he was agitated. The soles of his shoes were digging trenches into the blue fibers of my living room floor, leaving a decorative scar from tonight's searing. However, picturing him never aided my own predicament, and I muffled a light cry of frustration into my pillow more times than I will admit.
There were too many nights that followed when Anakin would be solar systems away from me; the physical distance between us damn near incalculable. And although those wartime nights were different because they were drenched with a fear for his safety, there was a ransacking distress to being separated from the man I loved when he was merely a few meters away, nothing but invisible protocols standing between us. I mean, for Force's sake, there wasn't even a door.
Indeed, that first night was the sole reason why many protocols were changed in the coming weeks, such as moving handmaidens and the rest of my support staff— including a posted elevator guard— to rooms on the floor below. Captain Typho kicked up quite a ruckus about it, but we compromised by my agreeing to more cameras encased in an advanced, closed-circuit system. Of course, my handy and handsome partner-in-crime— to whom every engineering headache was seen as a glorious challenge— and my loyal astromech droid, who'd never met a technical issue he couldn't finagle his way around, were able to modify the new system by the first evening it was up. By the time my personal team finished their work, I could control when the cameras were off at the switch of a button. Poor Typho never did figure out exactly why the cameras "glitched" and blacked out for hours at a time, but I sufficiently protested at more changes and the idea of technicians buzzing around my quiet home that he eventually let it go. Really, though, I have a hunch that Dormé hinted enough at my reason for want of privacy— even though she never named names— so much so, the topic of the blacking out cameras rarely came up after the first few months.
The point is, once our love was in the open between us, never again did Anakin and I fear sharing an intimate night in my apartment. One evening of abiding by the rules of the outside world inside our inner sanctum— one evening of pure torment— was more than enough.
But we still had to get through that first night, and I almost destroyed our cover before it even began. Just before getting into bed, my imagination and daring flared. I came dangerously close to seductively removing my thin-strapped, form fitting nightgown— the most mature one I had in my Coruscant drawers— in clear view of the bedroom cameras. The only thing that stopped me was knowing, with absolute certainty, that such a striptease— before I could even finish it— would lead to my "bodyguard" jetting through the doorway as fast as he once had to stop the Kouhuns and passionately lifting me on to the mattress. With the way I was pining for Anakin, I'd be sure to lose all willpower to discourage just by the sight of him. If there was even a chance that other eyes were monitoring the cameras, to do such a thing would be the forfeiture of our secret on Night #1. We may as well have postponed our trip to Naboo by detouring to the Jedi Temple first, just so Anakin could promptly turn in his resignation— or whatever process the Jedi used when a rare member broke away.
Of course, I stamped down the temptation to throw it all to the wind and give in. But the way my body and my heart yearned for him… well, it took longer than it should have to talk myself out of it.
This was what Anakin did to me. Maybe this is one of the many reasons why we were always a perfect match. To those who knew him best, Anakin was known for having a reckless beast inside him. The rule-breaker. The storm rider. The dragon. These presumptions weren't inaccurate. But what others did not know was, for him alone, I unleashed a creature inside me that matched his— fire for fire.