A/N: Who can resist a Bridgerton/Regency AU right now? And pining!Padmé?
When Padmé and her family returned to the ton for the beginning of her second season out in society, she hadn't imagined merely a month later her time would be so occupied with aiding her long-time friend to find himself a match. If her mother found out her thoughts were focused on the marriage mart and someone else's potential, Jobal Naberrie would go positively mad. She didn't enjoy the prospect of disappointing her mother, but there simply wasn't a suitor who'd caught her attention so far. Her efforts were better focused on Anakin and his trials for now.
A mere Mister among a sea of Lords, Dukes and Earls, despite the impending grand inheritance of the Viscount title over his ageing uncle's lands and estate, Anakin was new to the ton and untested. She wasn't sure he would survive an unassisted run-in with a band of scheming Mamas. Not to mention his startling lack of high-society manners revealing itself now and again. He was used to life in the country and the freedoms that afforded a person. Padmé worried about how he was going to navigate the rigid constraints of the ton.
Which was why she was very happy to take on the endeavour of finding the right match for her friend. Marriage by the end of the season was a firm condition set out by his uncle, Viscount Palpatine, to be named his true and only heir. Lord Palpatine was eager to ensure the continuity of his blood and House, which was entirely understandable, but to throw so much pressure onto his nephew's shoulders so soon after thrusting him into society felt almost… cruel.
Smoothing down the lavender skirts of her dress for the evening, Padmé let her eyes wander the room. The attendees of the Organa ball this evening were certainly encouraging, only the highest-ranking Lords and Ladies were invited. And most importantly for her mission, their debuted daughters.
Padmé remembered how overwhelming her first season was, full of splendour and dancing and the early mornings awaiting gentleman callers. However, all of that lost its sparkle remarkably quickly and became rather laborious.
Even Queen Jamilla looked bored near to tears as she pouted on the makeshift throne set out for her and her ladies in waiting. Nearly drowning in an endless sea of red silk and satin, the young monarch's eyes drooped as she battled falling asleep before them all. A fact that sent disappointed Mamas glaring at their daughters for not attracting her Majesty's favour. It seemed there was to be no diamond this year after all.
The repetitiveness of the ton could certainly be trying at times but the task of helping Anakin find a match had rekindled her excitement to socialise and attend such events. She found herself listing every unmarried young lady she knew, judging their characters and ambitions in comparison to Anakin's. It wasn't easy and she was certainly beginning to feel a drop of sympathy for all her mother had gone through finding Sola a husband three years ago. If only that attention weren't so focused on her now.
In the corner of the Organa's grand ballroom, Padmé glanced at her friend standing beside her as the night unfolded before them. She'd gone to great lengths avoiding the gentleman Jobal wished to introduce her to this evening to spend her night here in the shadows. There wouldn't be much time for matchmaking with her friend if her mother kept her dance card full all night long, would there? She let her eyes wander across the debutants and unmarried ladies, weighing their potential to get along with the man beside her.
Not that Anakin needed too much of her help. A handsome new addition to the ton regardless of his lack of rank yet, he'd certainly caught the attentions of several flustered young ladies since returning from the Grand Tour his uncle had sponsored. And with a rakish new scar cut across his right eye to boot! With his natural charm and kindness, Anakin was going to send many young ladies swooning this season – but she was here to be sure it was the right ladies. The marriage mart invited many two-faced snakes who only shed their pretty masks once an unbreakable engagement was announced.
She wouldn't have that for him.
Padmé stole a moment to eye Anakin's navy suit, cut and tailored to perfection for his body and looming tallness, the gleaming silver fob of his pocket watch hanging against his waist and the tamed, sandy-curls, cut appropriately short and styled in a fashionable gentleman's style. He looked like he'd grown up in society all his life. As if he belonged among them and not at all like the wild boy she grew up with in the country.
He really had grown into a very handsome man. When did that happen exactly?
Tearing her eyes away before someone spotted her unabashed staring, Padmé laid her gaze on the dancefloor. Lady Adi Galli caught her eye right away, laughing on the arm of Lord Fisto as they danced the Scotch Reel. She was certainly a very attractive woman. Her shining hair was dark as a raven's wing and pinned perfectly behind her head, a beautiful contrast to the bright, shimmering orange dress she wore.
Grasping Anakin's sleeve, Padmé tugged him half a step closer to draw his attention in the right direction. "Look, that's Lady Galli over there… She's my age, we debuted at the same time. Her father has no sons so she – and whoever she marries – stands to gain quite the inheritance one day."
She watched Anakin eye his prospective Lady. His Grand Tour truly had done wonders for him… He'd been a lean, nervous boy when he bid her goodbye two years ago before setting sail to travel and enjoy the wonders and spoils this world had to offer a rich young man. Whatever adventures he'd had along the way had transformed him into a strong, somewhat more mature man. The years away had done him worlds of good – though he refused to indulge her in most of his stories for some reason or another.
Her stomach churned at the unfairness of being born a woman for a moment. She'd read so much of the world and would very much like to see beyond her family's country house and the ton. Yet she was trapped here awaiting the marriage that would force her to settle down and distract her with a household to run for the rest of her life… She grimaced for a moment before disregarding such thoughts for the evening. This wasn't the time or the place.
Anakin's eyes shifted back to hers and Padmé felt something quiver inside her. She cleared her throat, looking back at the dancefloor as that strange feeling became uncomfortable. Perhaps something at dinner didn't agree with her? She only hoped it didn't make her unwell before the night was over, she was rather enjoying having someone to spend these tedious evenings with for once.
"I don't think Lady Galli is a viable option, I'm afraid," he chuckled. "There's to be an engagement announcement tonight from what I hear. It seems that she and Lord Fisto over there were caught alone in the Galli house study by her father."
Padmé gasped, whipping her head back to around only to find Anakin laughing at her response. When did he become a gossip? He hardly paid attention to things she went out of her way to tell him most days but he knew about a brewing scandal? "You're as bad as the society papers!" A small bubble of laughter burst free of her own lips, too quickly to disguise behind her white-gloved hand. "Since when do you listen to idle gossip?"
He smirked but didn't say any more as the music faded to an end and the dancers began to disperse throughout the room.
Well, that was one less option they had to play with. No matter, there were plenty of other young women she imagined would love to be courted by someone like Anakin. "What about Miss Secura?" The tall, slim woman was a renowned beauty of the ton and she looked simply divine in the bright blue dress she wore tonight. Padmé glanced down at her own dress for a moment, lavender and embroidered with small flowers across her chest and puffed sleeves. In comparison to Miss Secura's dazzling jewel-encrusted dress, she felt a little plain… Perhaps she should ask her mother for a visit to the modiste in the morning?
Returning her focus to the lady in question, Padmé had only been in a handful of conversations with the Aayla, but her wit was sharp and her mind keen. Anakin would struggle to be bored spending time with someone like that. "She's very beautiful, isn't she?"
"Indeed," Anakin nodded without so much as glancing at the other woman, "But I don't think Miss Secura and I are a fitting match. The one time our paths crossed, she confused me and Obi-Wan three times despite correction." He grimaced. "Not even his Duchess, Satine, draping herself on his arm could hint about our identities…"
"You are joking?" Padmé cringed at the sound that tumbled out of her lips, something between a surprised cry and a too-loud laugh. Whatever it was robbed Anakin of his decorum, rumbling a laugh that only inspired more of her own. She simply couldn't help herself, reaching to steady herself on his broad arm as they cackled together like children. If her mother happened to glance across the room, she was fairly sure Jobal would be marching her way over to drag her home before anyone else noticed their impropriety, but the laughter just wouldn't stop.
Her belly tightened painfully as humorous tears sprung into her eyes and she tried to stop, truly she did, but little titters continued to escape. Padmé quickly released her white, feathery fan and disguised herself by fluttering it. It was a humid evening, no one would question this at least. "You really do bring out the worst in me, you know," she sniggered behind the fluffy shield the accessory provided.
"I think that's the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me," Anakin grinned so bright and charming that Padmé's mouth followed suit before she realised what was happening. He really was so much fun to be around! Most gentlemen her mother thrust upon her were endlessly dull and asked deeply personal questions as they ranked her against the other unwed ladies they knew. It was always so awkward and forced. Especially when they pried for her opinions on children, her skin always crawled at their leering stares or too firm pressure on her back while they danced. But Anakin was her friend! She felt more comfortable and at peace with him than… well, anyone really. And she liked him as a person. She truly, deeply… liked him.
"You do realise that there are only two months left of the season, don't you?" She raised an eyebrow from behind the flutter of her fan, "If you wish to follow your uncle's orders and take a wife, you are rapidly running out of time."
She wasn't sure just how seriously Viscount Palpatine was taking his set deadline for Anakin's match, but surely a little extra time could be granted? This was his nephew's first ever season and he was navigating it alone for the most part. Finding the most suitable match wasn't always easy, especially in this ton!
"Well you know," Anakin began to smirk, reaching for two gleaming glasses of lemonade and offering her the first. Padmé accepted it gratefully – when did the room get so warm? "Not all of us can secure six proposals on our first season and turn down every one of them…"
"It was eight proposals I'll have you know," Padmé giggled again, "and I thought that my mother was going to throw me out onto the streets by the end of it."
"But you didn't settle," he pressed, something sparking in his ocean-blue eyes, "You could have been wed to any grand Lord you desired on your first season, but you waited… Why? What are you waiting for?"
Something inside her head whispered that it was improper to stare at a gentleman for so long… and yet Padmé couldn't break her gaze away. Did not want to look away from him. Anakin's bright eyes bore down into her own as his question lay unanswered between them. Her whole body seemed to grow warmer and yet she shuddered. Any amusement and laughter died in her throat. Why hadn't she accepted any of the numerous proposals she'd received last season? Her friends and family had been hounding her with that very same question ever since and she still didn't have the correct words to explain it.
Something had simply felt… missing… The gentlemen, no matter how generous or kind, hadn't inspired anything to flutter inside of her. She felt no excitement around them and sometimes dreaded their visits when calling hour came around each morning. It wasn't supposed to be like that, was it? Padmé knew her mother and sister believed she was acting like a naive, romantic child. A woman needed security in life, a husband who would provide for her and their children… the most that women like her could hope for was kindness and respect from a union… and yet her heart demanded something else. Something more.
Neither Sola nor their mother and father were wedded in a love match and yet all were very content with their choices, settled with households and families of their own. Padmé would like that for herself one day, sooner rather than later preferably. A house of her own. A husband. Children. She'd wanted all of it since she was only a girl playing with her dolls but the prospect of choosing the wrong husband terrified her. Marriage was so final. Utterly inescapable if one wed the wrong man. She wanted someone kind, someone open and dependable, someone she could trust to be faithful and loyal to her… Someone like…
Her gaze returned to Anakin's as her racing thoughts quietened. His grin faded to a smaller, quieter smile as they stood in companionable silence for a moment before he took pity on her and spoke again, forgetting his question entirely. "I…" he said quietly, clearing his throat before trying again. "Anyway, regardless of my uncle, I have to find a match this season."
"Why is that?" Her voice sounded quiet and strained to her ears and she cringed inwards, cursing her throat for its betrayal.
He drifted half a step forward, any sense of propriety far removed from the situation. Padmé was sure people were looking by now but she didn't care. Nothing felt more important than whatever he was about to say. Her ears strained through they were barely a step apart and the musicians only strummed softly. In her chest, her heart began to race as she closed her fan and the lemonade in her palm sloshed as her fingers trembled just a little. What was wrong with her tonight?
"If I don't marry before the season is over, people will know that you tried to help me and utterly failed… I won't have your matchmaking reputation ruined with your very first try…" Anakin whispered in her ear, his newly restored grin laced through every humorous word so she could practically hear it. Oh – she wanted to hit him! Or throw her drink in his face! Or – or anything but laugh at his immature stupidity… and yet Padmé couldn't help herself. She threw back her head and laughed as though no one was around to hear her. She laughed until her stomach ached all over again.
"I hate you," she shook her head.
"No you don't," he said softly.
The humour fell away from her expression and something sharp and aching rushed through her chest. No, she didn't hate him at all. He was her… friend. She couldn't possibly hate him. He was warm and kind and deserved the very best of everything. Padmé was sure he would make a wonderful Viscount one day. And an even better husband. She knew Anakin would treat whatever fortunate lady he wedded extremely well. He would be devoted and caring, willing to share a life with his spouse rather than dominate it with his opinions alone. Whoever she was… well, she was a very lucky woman indeed.
"Perhaps…" she began softly, "if you tell me what it is you desire, I might know a lady who matches the qualities and we can start from there?"
She had several unmarried friends and acquaintances to make a possible introduction to but time was really of the essence and she didn't want to waste a moment on a woman who wasn't good enough for him. Anakin deserved the best and she was going to help him get it.
She watched Anakin steal a moment to think under the guise of a sip of lemonade. His throat moved beneath his white cravat as he swallowed and Padmé suddenly found herself rather breathless. She snuck a moment for herself, glancing over her shoulder as couples began to line the dancefloor yet again. Her mother was just going to kill her if she didn't peel herself from the wall and take to the floor at least once this evening, but she was having such a wonderful time with Anakin in their secluded little corner. It really had been amazing to have him here for the season, usually, she was forced to enjoy his company through letters while he enjoyed his travels. It was nice to have someone by her side to spend this time with for a change.
"I suppose I would like my future wife to be faithful and loyal, as I intend to be," Anakin said at last, drawing her attention back to him. "If I'm to spend the rest of my life with someone, it would be convenient if we had interests in common, things we could enjoy together."
"You'll be hard-pressed to find a lady in the ton who enjoys hunting with you, Anakin…" Padmé drawled.
He rolled his eyes. "Other interests I mean…"
She remembered their long days in the country together, riding horses and racing across wide fields and pastures. It was the happiest Padmé ever saw him, unbound, free to laugh and be wholly himself without his overbearing uncle breathing down his neck. Their little racing tournament was at a draw currently. She couldn't wait until the season was over to break it. She was going to savour the look on his face when her horse, Romeo, overtook his and she claimed the victory and –
Oh.
Padmé felt her face fall. If Anakin found a match, he wouldn't be available to spend time with her in the off-season… He would be away with his new bride enjoying his honeymoon. Things were never going to be the same for them after this season, were they? She hadn't let herself think about it too much before now, but if Anakin had a wife, she and the family they started together were going to be his priority going forward. She was going to lose him, wasn't she?
Something in her chest panged so painfully that Padmé almost gasped, just barely managing to turn away from him once again to hide the wave of vicious disappointment rushing through her. Anakin didn't need to see her immaturity right now. He had bigger, more important things to think about. A future to plan out. One where she would be an infrequent visitor at best and an old friend smiled at from across the room occasionally at worst.
"What else are you looking for?" She muttered, releasing her fan again to soothe her burning face. The soft, white feathers did little to lift her spirits but the small wafts of cooler air were refreshing enough.
"I think… above all else, I'd like us to be friends," Anakin said softly, "I want a partner by my side, someone I can rely upon and trust to help me run the estate and lands I'll inherit one day. I don't think that's going to be possible if we don't like each other as people at the very least."
She couldn't make herself look at him, shifting to stand by his side instead. This was more proper anyway. "A life is a very long time to spend with someone you don't get along with," Padmé nodded. Why was she suddenly so dejected? She and Anakin were always going to marry and grow apart, even if her selfish mind hadn't let her consider the fact before. Did she expect him to always remain by her side even as life tried to pry them apart? It was childish of her… and yet she couldn't drag herself out of the gloom rapidly descending upon her mood.
Maybe whoever she married would take her miles and miles away and they would only ever run into each other in the social season? Her parents had plenty of friends like that, people whose lives they learned about mostly through whispers and scandal sheets yet claimed to treasure dearly. Was that the fate of her and Anakin's friendship too? Her heart sunk to her stomach. That wasn't what she wanted, quite the opposite.
It took her a moment too long to realise he was speaking again as she tried to swallow down the bitter devastation overwhelming her. Would it be entirely rude to make her excuses and take her leave of the night early? Wallowing in bed sounded like a delightful way to spend the remainder of the night.
"… My mother says the strongest love can come from friendship," Anakin said softly and she felt his eyes on her but she couldn't stand to meet his hopeful expression as he planned to find happiness with someone who might take him away from her. When did she become so selfish, exactly? She didn't remember being so spoilt or feeling as entitled to anything before! Why was she behaving this way? "Do you believe that?" He asked.
Padmé began to consider her answer. Could love bloom from friendship? She hadn't given the idea much thought before. Whenever she imagined her future husband, she wanted someone she enjoyed spending time with. Someone who could hold a good conversation. She wanted a man who would be kind and generous. A warm and affectionate father. But love? Was it even possible in their society? Her racing heart skipped a beat as she found the courage to meet Anakin's eyes again. "I…" she began but the words failed her.
She felt utterly overwhelmed.
The musicians began the stirrings of a whole new dance as couples entered and exited the dancefloor.
Her world blinked into focus once more as Anakin held out a hand between them, "Dance with me?" He asked softly and Padmé didn't hesitate before nodding and gripping his hand in her own. Nervousness blazed to life inside her as they quickly abandoned their glasses on a nearby table. This was the very first time they'd ever taken to the floor together. Their time at these balls was usually spent laughing and talking and occasionally sneaking outside for cool air if they were feeling brave enough to risk it. Dancing was a labour she endued with potential suitors to appease her parents, it was never something she did for fun with a friend.
But holding Anakin's hand felt natural and as they both assumed their positions on the floral-painted floor, Padmé took a steadying breath. Shouldn't this feel awkward? It always felt uncomfortable and she counted the moments and steps until it was over and she could politely escape the suitor's clutches once more. But as she looked up at him, she only smiled. The first notes of the upbeat quadrille began and she let him lead their hasty steps – though part of her was tempted to take over only to see him sweat.
Deciding to be kind, people were watching, after all, Padmé relaxed and followed his lead.
They followed the music and the age-old steps that she'd practised since childhood, remembering them with ease. Padmé found herself caught in his gaze yet again and suddenly, the eyes of the ton, their voices and laughter all faded away. For a moment, they were alone on the dance floor and the world was silent. There was only them, only Padmé and Anakin. No society, no rules, no gossip to avoid… and certainly no marriage prospects to dwell on! She loved it.
Her smile seemed to be infectious as Anakin mirrored it with his own a moment later, sweeping her around his body as elegantly as any man born and bred to be a gentleman of the ton. "You've been practising," she laughed softly.
"Well, I didn't want to embarrass myself the first time I took you to the floor," he glanced downwards and her smile broadened as he flushed sweetly.
"You could never embarrass me, Anakin," she said and meant it. Even if they came out here without him knowing the steps, Padmé knew she wouldn't care about what anyone thought so long as they were together. He was her best friend! The rest of the world could shove off as far as she was concerned. "Though do remind me to get your name on my dance card before we leave. My mama will murder me if she sees it empty when the night is over."
"I will," he smiled, "I'll claim every spot if you want me to?"
Her breath quickened in a way that had nothing to do with the dance they shared. "That's not going to be very conducive to finding you a wife, is it?" She forced a gentle laugh as he spun her around. Despite her little barb, the prospect of spending the remainder of the night dancing with Anakin felt so very tempting… He was surprisingly graceful on the floor! For someone who only began learning a few months before the season, he was remarkably good at dancing.
"It might…" he said quietly and Padmé found she had no rebuttal in mind as they danced around the room. She spotted her mother and Sola on the sidelines, watching them closely and felt her stomach grow heavy with dread until she caught her sister's wide, encouraging grin. Sola gave a subtle nod before hiding it behind her glass of lemonade while their mother merely watched on with a small smile of her own. What on earth did that mean? She saw the pair mutter something between themselves and couldn't bear to think about them any longer. They were going to make her miss a step and Anakin would never let her live it down.
Knowing that they were watching made her nerves like a fraying ribbon coming apart at the seams.
The dance ended shortly afterwards and Padmé wasn't sure if she felt relieved or disappointed about it. Maybe she would understand better once they returned to the privacy of their corner to enjoy themselves a little longer. However, as Anakin scribbled his name onto the first line of the little card around her wrist, the clearing of a throat drew both their attentions to the left as a blushing young debutante was led forward by her smirking mama.
"Mister Skywalker!" The older woman dryly. Mother and daughter favoured one another, long blonde hair gleamed brightly in lovely ringlets sitting prettily upon their shoulders. A gleaming silver tiara sat upon the young lady's head, marking her as newly out and on the hunt for a husband. "Have you met my daughter? Miss Amaza Darkrose?"
"I have not, but the pleasure is all mine," he smiled charmingly, lifting the bowing girl's hand to his lips. Padmé rolled her eyes – did he really need to do that? Amaza blushed scarlet and giggled, forcing her to bite her lip and glare over her shoulder lest she appear rude. Though perhaps these women were the rude ones to come over here without greeting her too? Neither so much as nodded in her direction, as if pretending she wasn't here at all.
"Will you be taking to the floor again this evening, Mister Skywalker?" The mother lifted a keen eyebrow, asking a question without truly asking. If she wanted to force her daughter to dance, wouldn't it be easier just to come out and ask someone to partner with her? Padmé sensed the bitterness she felt creep upon her expression and unfolded her fan yet again to mask such negative expressions. Hardly the behaviour of a polite lady, was it?
Amaza stared imploringly, waiting with bated breath for his response. She was very beautiful with pretty, pink rosebud lips and startling green eyes which the deep emerald dress she wore tonight complimented wonderfully.
Against all sense of propriety, Anakin hesitated in asking for the lady to dance with him, casting his eyes to Padmé instead. She read the silent question in his imploring eyes, understanding he was waiting for her opinion on the matter. If she wanted him to stay by her side then he would without thought of good manners or what people might say about it. And god, selfish as she was of late, she didn't want him to go with this other woman. She wanted to dance with him again and then return to their corner and whisper and laugh the night away. She wanted time with him not to see him whisking someone else around the room instead.
But as she opened her mouth to make some excuse or another, Padmé realised just how selfish she was being. Asking Anakin to spend all his time with her was unreasonable, wasn't it? Not to mention terribly unfair of her. He needed to find a match this season… how could she stand in the way of his chance to do just that? Even if something painful spiked in her chest at the thought of him leading this girl off, she forced herself to smile and nod encouragingly. Granting the quiet permission he was obviously seeking.
That's what good friends did for each other, wasn't it?
Whatever excitement she expected to see in his lovely eyes didn't spark as he nodded and led the other lady to the dancefloor.
This was what they wanted, wasn't it? Ladies for him to call on. Someone he could court and find common enough ground to make a match to please his uncle. So why did she feel like the floor had been pulled out from beneath her? Padmé felt ill as Anakin spun Amaza around, following the light, quick steps of the country jig the musicians played. Padmé tried not to think about the way her stomach clenched as the blonde beauty laughed at whatever remark Anakin made nor the nausea she felt at the warm smiles they shared.
"Look at them," Amaza's mother sighed dreamily. Padmé jumped a little, having completely forgotten about the other woman's presence beside her. "They do make a lovely pair, do they not, Miss Naberrie? I do hope Mister Skywalker comes calling in the morning. After all, my girl will make the finest Viscountess he could hope to have by his side."
Why were her eyes burning? She blinked furiously trying to clear away the watery veil blurring her vision. Her already fraying nerves began to unravel further, leaving her shaking beside the eager mama whose presence she was too polite to escape. Padmé had never her heart sink so low, never felt pain in her chest just from breathing. It just… hurt. She hated it. Hated the sight of that woman's hand in his. Hated the musical little giggles she made at whatever he said.
Anakin wasn't that funny!
Except that he was. And he was sweet and thoughtful and incredibly charming when he wished to be.
She glanced down at the dance card tied loosely around her wrist, empty save for one singular name scrawled across the dainty line and suddenly she began to feel… afraid. Upset. Just a little bit despondent. What kind of a friend was she?
She'd have to remind Anakin that it was customary to send flowers to the lady first thing in the morning if he liked her.
"Yes," Padmé nodded, painting a smile across her lips once more even as something within her fractured. "I'm sure she will be a wonderful Viscountess for him."