Living A Lie

Chapter 5, To Love and to Cherish

Senator Amidala's Chambers, Ambassadorial District

The view from underneath the ledge of Padmé's window was fantastic, a sheer drop hundreds of metres from the ground level of 500 Republica. Which meant some further thousands of metres from the actual planet surface. As Anakin waited for the small commotion in Padmé's room to desist, he absent mindedly swatted away the security droids that came buzzing in his direction while deeply considering testing his theory of Force-empowered flight. Once, he had argued with Obi-Wan that Jedi could fly; all they needed was faith and nerve. Perhaps…

"Psst… Anakin! Anakin!"

Perhaps another time.


"A little louder Padmé and I'm sure Dormé will come zooming back with her blaster."

Padmé giggled as her husband, with one swing, propelled himself from beneath her window and into her room.

He came to stand before her and she regarded his long, lean frame hungrily. He regarded her petite, curvaceous, skimpy night-shift clad frame with equal lust.

"You. Me. Bed," she declared. Then she flew into his arms.

The embrace shifted into a deep kiss, then an even deeper one, and her feet left the ground as, ever the obedient husband, Anakin made their cojoined way to the moon-bathed bed.

Later on, Padmé rested happily on what she now regarded as her side of the bed, playing with her husband's hair. Anakin's head lay against her stomach, his eyes were half-closed, and a satisfied grin smirked on his face. Every now and then, he'd raise his chin and his teeth would nip the smooth expanse of flesh so seductively within reach.

"I thought they'd never leave," she moaned, remembering the rude interruption of her handmaiden and security detail. Seconds after Anakin's dramatic exit, the security detail had burst into her chambers without invitation. The formerly dim room blazed with light as the sensor lamps came on, and the yellow glow glinted off the sleek metal blasters. It had taken a full hour to persuade Typho that Padmé's blaster had only malfunctioned and that there was really no need for them to check the periphery. She still hadn't quite decided how she would explain everything to Dormé.

"They'd never have come if you hadn't shot at me," he grumbled, his voice causing tiny tremors beneath her skin.

Padmé coloured. "Well, I didn't know it was you, did I? What do you suggest I do next time a strange man comes creeping through my win-Ow!" For at her words, his teeth had bitten down especially hard.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding in the least.

"'tis okay," she said softly, weaving her fingers through the rough strands. Casually, she tightened her fist, slowly pulling his hair until he caught on and yelped.

"Yes, dear Husband?'' she asked innocently, not loosening her grip in the least.

He rolled his eyes, an effect that was completely wasted on her as his face was still resting contentedly against her. He toyed with the idea of pacifying her by letting her know how sexy he had found her misguided assassination attempt; but at that moment, her body shifted, bringing all that skin even closer to him and he was … distracted.

Soon enough, their caresses became gentler, his every breath a kiss, her hands now running gently through his hair, memorizing the feel of the strands against her fingers, the way the night lights glinted against them, the long dark curve of his brow, the sweet repose of his chin… She sought out the little details greedily, desperately, knowing that she would soon be returning to them for comfort.

He sighed.

"What is it?" Padmé whispered, the words forcing themselves out of the lump in her throat.

He didn't reply with words, just turned their bodies around until she was in his, cradled against the world. She clutched him desperately. The scent of oshii filled her nostrils. The memory of loneliness was waiting at the window.

"I don't want the morning to c-" she began and Anakin shushed her.

"Not yet," he said and she knew he was speaking about goodbyes. "Not yet, please."

She closed her eyes tightly against his chest, against the tears that still slipped through.