When Angels Weep

Chapter: 8

Notes: This is an extended, unedited version of the chapter currently on FF.Net.

Yes, I know many women don't regain their pre-preg bodies so quickly. Been there, done that. Fiction is wonderful isn't it? 

~~~~~~~~~~

Two months sped by. Padmé was amazed how quickly the days went by when she was occupied with the children. One day ended and another immediately began without any real rest for her. Anakin was short tempered, unwilling to consider hiring someone to come help her and Dormé during the day. He claimed they had matters well in hand.

She finished changing Shmi and picked her up, breathing in the scent of freshly washed baby. Shmi was growing so much faster than little Annie. At the rate she was growing she'd be twice his size soon. Padmé had asked about that at their last checkup and had been assured that children grew at their own rate. The twins were normal. One of these days, little Annie would catch up and maybe even surpass his sister in size. Just feed them when they were hungry and let them sleep. Those were the best things for them.

Little Annie sure had the sleeping part down. Already he was sleeping through the night. Shmi on the other hand.... She kept a schedule completely opposite her brother and was twice as fussy.

Padmé sighed. As for her own health, she was slowly losing the weight she'd gained with the twins. She'd begun exercising again and kept a close eye on her diet. She wanted to be in top shape when the time came to leave. That day was awhile off, however. The babies weren't quite old enough to travel well.

Not that she had a ship to use anymore. Captain Typho had been dismissed, the ship returned to Naboo. Her replacement in the Senate had a much newer vessel he used to travel with. While Padmé could understand having to return the ship -- she was not going to be a Senator much longer -- she was saddened by its loss. The loss of freedom to travel.

Her fears had been realized. She was trapped in an exquisitely gilded cage. Her comings and goings and even her communications were monitored and all in the name of protection. Anakin thought he was protecting her. Guards were everywhere and Dormé was beginning to question the need for such tight security, voicing her thoughts to Anakin. He'd listen with a polite smile and assure her that there was still a threat to Padmé. They had to be vigilant to keep her protected.

Anakin told Padmé over and over how safe he was making her surroundings so that she would feel protected and cared for when he couldn't be there with her.

For her. He was doing it for her.

If Padmé had any tears left inside her she would cry for that. Everything he did was for her and he couldn't see, was blind to see what he was doing to her.

I will do anything that you ask.

Yes, he would do anything. Except give up his ambitions, his partnership with darkness, and go away with her and their children to live in anonymity on some backwater planet in the Outer Rim. All Padmé wanted was his love and it seemed his love was being covered over and buried.

With a glance at Annie, sound asleep for the first of his afternoon naps, Padmé left the bedroom and went out onto the verandah, willing all sadness away from her. There was a delightfully cool breeze. It would be a shame to let herself wallow in despondency on such a beautiful day. She sat, listening to the sounds of the traffic and of Dormé arguing ineffectually with Threepio about something she couldn't quite make out, rocking Shmi to and fro in a soothing manner.

"Oh!" Dormé exclaimed loudly and then there was silence from Threepio as Artoo whistled and beeped. When her voice continued, it was softer, conversational in tone and Threepio did not reply. She guessed Dormé had turned off his voice.

It was a pleasant moment. Padmé wished all her days could be this pleasant. She wished that right at this second she was back home on Naboo, with Anakin beside her. They'd be sitting outside in a garden or on a balcony, looking out across a lake or river, someplace with water. He'd be holding one of their babies and she the other, or perhaps her parents would be watching the babies for the afternoon, giving Padmé and Anakin time for themselves.

There'd be a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teased her about one thing or another. He'd smile at her and she'd lean over to kiss him. His hand would raise, his voice gentle and soft as he told her she was beautiful and that he loved her more than anything....

Padmé smiled at the imagining, at the memory blended with it. Many times Anakin had teased her, told her she was beautiful and expressed his love for her. Only a couple times had the setting been Naboo. She wanted to go back to the past, knowing what she knew now, and fix what had gone wrong. She wanted to leave the Senate before she'd learned democracy was broken and live on Naboo waiting for her husband to come to see her.

No, she thought. Even those steps would not have kept this time from coming to pass. She wanted a different reality entirely, where the Jedi allowed their marriage and their love and they'd never entered into a hidden relationship at all. She wanted a life where they'd loved openly. She could be near her family and not be afraid for what the future might possibly hold for her and her children. Padmé wanted a dream, a fanciful tread of the mind into the waters of what may have been had things been different.

It was something that never would have been and could not be. They would never go to Naboo or be so carefree as they had been for achingly brief moments. She knew that. But still....

A wistful sigh left her.

It was nice to pretend, to hold the wondering in her mind and wish it could come to pass. It was lovely to sit in the sun and contemplate a life where there'd been no pain, no deceit and where her husband never turned to the dark side of the Force.

"I like watching you with them."

She turned her head. Anakin was crossing to her, a gentle smile turning his lips. The smile was so much like what she'd imagined that Padmé swallowed hard around a sudden lump in her throat.

"There's something very peaceful about watching you hold our children. It calms me." He joined her, sitting directly beside her, his leg firm against hers.

"You're back earlier than usual." Those trips he took for Palpatine took more than a few hours most days. He'd leave early in the morning, posting guards about the entrances to the apartment and building -- for her safety. Then, he'd return late at night, sometimes so angry that she'd find herself curling in a tight ball on the bed in the chance he wouldn't turn his temper upon her. She'd hold her breath so she wouldn't cry out her fear of him. A chorus of 'don't make a sound' would run through her mind as he cursed and muttered and paced.

She'd make a silent wish that Dormé and the babies wouldn't hear him, that they'd remain safely asleep. Protected from his ire. So far, her wishes had come true.

But then there were other times when he'd come in as though drugged, stumbling and clumsy, sweating and shaking, his face a mask of horror and his eyes reflecting a terror that had scarred him deep inside. Those moments reminded her of that evening on Tatooine when he'd brought his mother back. She'd comforted him then, but no more. No longer would she try to comfort him. He didn't want her comfort.

The first time he'd come back here to the apartment in that condition, the touch of her hand on his arm had produced a violent reaction. He'd shoved her away, words that made no sense pouring from him in broken sentences, as though his mind wouldn't let him tell her what had brought him to this state. It had frustrated him and he'd ended up sitting on the floor, his arms wrapped about his knees, rocking a little with his face buried.

When he'd finally raised his head, his eyes had burned with a frightening intensity. 'Go to bed, Padmé. Just go to bed. I don't need your help.'

On those nights, she would close her eyes and listen to her husband cry the remaining hours of night away. In the morning, she'd pretend she hadn't heard him at all.

But this? This good cheer was a new development.

"Persuasion was not required in negotiations." He raised his hand, trailing his fingers down her arm. "I want to take you out tonight. The Emperor doesn't need me so I can spend the time with you instead. Just the two of us."

"Anakin --"

He bent his head, managing to avoid any contact with Shmi as he cut off her sentence with a kiss that was anything but chaste. When he stepped back, his stare was heavy lidded and suggestive and wholly her Annie. "We need time together alone, my love. It's been months. I looked at your medical records and you're...healthy."

She willed herself to ignore his violation of medical confidentiality. He had it rationalized in his mind, therefore, it wasn't wrong.

"Don't be shy, Padmé. We need a romantic evening." Another kiss, then others trailing across her cheek and down her neck. "A relaxing night together. No babies crying for you, no duties of any kind."

He wasn't asking her. He was telling her. They were going to go out tonight and come back here. Come back here. Padmé's heartbeat quickened, her eyes widening as she finally realized what he meant. He wasn't talking about dinner and a nightclub. Well, he was, but not solely. He was talking about the one issue she'd managed to avoid until now. She'd been too pregnant after returning from Mustafar and then had just given birth. He'd looked at her records, knew they could resume the full physical aspect of their marriage.

Oh dear.

If he noticed she'd stiffened, he gave no sign, continuing to nuzzle her affectionately. "You don't need to be frightened. You know I won't hurt you."

Spark of memory. His hand raising, her throat closing. Breath wheezing into nonexistence.

A final lingering kiss was placed upon her lips, Anakin then standing. "I'll make all arrangements. You just concentrate on pampering yourself this afternoon. Linger in the bath, wile away the hours in leisure and I'll be back later."

He was gone in several strides, leaving Padmé wondering how she was going to deal with this new development.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dormé rocked little Annie. Shmi was asleep, finally succumbing to the pull to slumber. For awhile she'd been busy, trying to keep the two children occupied while Padmé took a long bath. They were settling down now and she was glad for it. Little Annie cooed and yawned, everything sweet a baby should be.

Anakin appeared in the doorway, handsome in Jedi garb, a charming smile on his face. What does he want, she wondered cynically, recognizing the smile now as the one he used when he wanted something. She liked his genuine smiles much better than this one. "Hello Dormé. Have they been behaving for you all afternoon?"

"They always do," she replied. "Little angels." Padmé had once told her how a young Anakin had called her an angel. The sweetness of that stuck with her to this day. Padmé was a beautiful woman. Dormé could understand how a young boy might think her some ethereal creature.

"What else can an angel bear but other angels?"

She laughed at that smooth retort, arching a brow. "Well, when they're asleep they're angels."

He stepped towards her, looked down at his son. "You're good with them." His hand stretched out, fingers stopping just shy of him, as though he was afraid to touch the boy, but then he moved that last half inch. His forefinger, the real one, grazed little Annie's cheek. The boy went completely still, eyes opening wide. Anakin's smile slipped into a genuine one, filled with happiness and light. After a few seconds, little Annie turned his head towards Dormé, burying his face against her like he often did with his mother.

Anakin drew back, his expression a little less content than it had been, that smile slipping away into nothingness. "I'm taking Padmé out tonight. It'll be late when we return and we need time together alone without interruptions in the night."

Dormé nodded. She'd been expecting this for the past two weeks, ever since her lady's last check-up.

"I'd like you to care for our babies tonight and through morning, until midday. Then, Padmé can sleep in. She needs the rest."

Thoughtful, that last bit, except Padmé had an early meeting with other Senators. It was the last of the meetings she had scheduled, signaling an end to her time as a Senator. Dormé gathered it was a goodbye breakfast with little real business to be discussed, hosted by Bail Organa and Mon Mothma. They'd invited Padmé's allies in the Senate, arranged the breakfast around all their schedules. "What of the meeting? She can't miss it. It's one of those breakfast affairs--"

He shrugged. "It's been rescheduled." Satisfaction tinged his voice, but why? It wasn't like he could arrange Senators' schedules to suit his whim. Or had Emperor Palpatine arranged it as a favor to Anakin? After all, Anakin was loyal to Palpatine. He'd considered the man a mentor for years. Palpatine was fully capable of making the meeting impossible to occur tomorrow morning.

She shifted little Annie. Glancing back up at Anakin, she noticed a change in his eyes. There was something.... How to explain it in a word? No one word sufficed. The shift was dark, sinister, with a lurking impression of danger, a sensation growing inside her that before her now stood a total stranger. Where Anakin had been stood a complete mirror copy of him. He looked like him, talked like him. He was him for all intents and purposes. And yet he was not him at the same time. Paradoxical and nonsensical that feeling.

Dormé blinked. Her lady's story came tumbling back to her. He may be Anakin, but he's not my Annie. Padmé's certainty that Anakin was not her husband. Her tale of him choking her.

He behaved like he was her husband. He brought Padmé presents, spoke softly to her and always with the devoted air of a man who adored his wife. Dormé's mind didn't want to consider that Anakin was abusive.

Why? Because. He was nice and charming. He obviously cared for Padmé. Not to mention that if he was abusive, she'd been aiding him for months. Dormé would never forgive herself if that ended up being the case -- not that she'd told him everything she and Padmé discussed. Her first loyalty was to Padmé and always would be. She was a handmaiden. She was a bodyguard and she was, above all else, a friend. Dormé would keep Padmé's secrets until Padmé told her to stop.

This stranger tilted his head to one side, lips quirking as though he knew she'd seen him and recognized him as a stranger. "Something wrong, Dormé?" He blinked and was Anakin again, genuinely puzzled by the odd expression she knew was on her face.

Quickly, she shook her head. "No, nothing's wrong. I'm a little tired is all. Your two little angels were active all afternoon. Does my lady know about the meeting?"

"I'll tell her in a bit. Is she still in the bath?"

"I think so."

With a thoughtful purse of his lips, Anakin strolled towards the bedroom and was gone from view.

Dormé turned her attention to the baby in her arms. He stared up at her. "I am not crazy," she whispered. "I did see that, didn't I?" He could not answer her, but Dormé was certain that somehow, the baby had also felt that shift like she had. Her thoughts turned round and round, going over old ground of the past few months, returning to things that had been said and done. She came to one conclusion.

Anakin was changed from what he'd been. But was that good or bad?

~~~~~~~~~~

Padmé stared at the dress Anakin had picked out for her as she'd finished in the refresher, her towel clutched to her. Memories assailed her and she gave herself a stern order not to even sniffle.

Is he determined to trod upon every last happy memory I have?

No, she reminded herself. He thinks he's making you remember, turning you back to him. Hence these constant tiny backwards trips in time.

She wore the clothes he wished her to, each outfit something she'd worn when with him in the past. He'd ask her about her favorite moment of those times until she was amazed at the details he remembered of their hours together. Her days were now ordered to please him. He didn't want to have to wait to have time with her, even if he did go off on those trips for Palpatine every couple days.

Anakin appeared to have forgotten that she was a woman of her own mind. Apparently in his memories, she was a meek, weak damsel waiting for his rescue and needing his direction in all things. How far from the truth that image was. He should know that. Didn't he remember her on Naboo or Geonosis? Didn't he remember her taking charge and not sitting on her hands waiting for him to protect her?

She'd been a queen of an entire planet and fought verbal battles in the Senate with a frequency that made them almost commonplace. She was not meek and neither was she going to sit back like a good little woman and let him have control over her.

Stretching out a hand, she trailed her fingers across the panels of nearly sheer fabric. She had kissed her Annie while wearing this dress, raised up her chin and met that tentative lowering of his lips with hers. In that second, a curiosity had been sparked within her to know his touch and the further bliss of his kisses.

It was clear to her now that she should have fought it harder. She should have denied the undeniable. That was the way of life, wasn't it? In retrospect, things always seemed different. She never should have admitted her feelings, or agreed to marry him. If she hadn't done either, she wouldn't be here now, chained to a man she didn't recognize as her husband.

Unwillingly, she recalled the trailing of Anakin's fingers along her bare back and arm and the charmingly goofy mention of her skin being soft unlike sand. He'd tried so hard to be suave and confident with her, his innocence in the words refreshing after all those silver tongues she'd had to listen to for years in the Senate. He'd meant his words, the emotion behind them. No pretending, his heart on his sleeve. His compliment was genuine, though the words were clumsy.

And later, in the darkened room by the fire, when he'd bared his soul. The desperation to continue being with her. The suggestion of lying, keeping secrets.

If you follow your thoughts through to conclusion, it'll take us to a place we cannot go.

We'd be living a lie.

Could you live like that....

She'd said all those words to him. And his reply: It would destroy us.

Her hand stilled on the fabric. And here we are, she thought, in the midst of destruction. Padmé sighed.

She'd wear this dress for Anakin and maybe, just maybe, a glimpse of her Annie would peek out of his eyes at her. If she could bring out even a two second glimpse, the emotional pain she now felt would be worth it.

The towel dropped to the floor and she pulled on the dress.

~~~~~~~~~~

The entire evening was not what Padmé expected. She'd assumed they'd have a private, intimate meal together in some dark establishment and return to the apartment quickly. This, it turned out, was not the case. He wanted to socialize. Anakin took her into the lower levels of the city first, to places she'd never go by herself, then up to the more exclusive clubs, where even with her clout as a Senator, they would have had difficulty gaining entrance into.

No problem for him. He simply used the Jedi mind trick over and over. He used the Force as he pleased, for casual purposes. Indiscriminate use. It didn't bother him, either. In fact, it was second nature, something he didn't even think about.

He showed her off to any who crossed their path. His beautiful wife.

Padmé hated it.

When he finally consented to having a meal, it was already later than she was used to eating, her stomach rumbling uncomfortably. As a consequence, she ate far more than she would have. Their glasses were kept filled with what she knew was expensive and quite potent wine. That wine, after two glasses, made her reckless, the guard she kept on her tongue slipping. Padmé knew she should not say what she found herself saying.

"You keep saying you won't hurt me, but we both know that's a lie, don't we Anakin?"

His glance raised from his plate, startled by her choice of topic. Slowly, anger began to simmer in those blue orbs. He sat back, wiped his mouth with his napkin and set the cloth aside. Their server took away their plates. Neither of them thanked her. Anakin's eyes narrowed. "I lost my temper, Padmé." He knew exactly what she was referring to. "That's all that happened. A momentary loss of control and could you blame me at that moment? It won't happen again. Why are you bringing this up? We don't need to talk about this."

"You lose your temper quite frequently," she retorted, feeling the heat from the wine working inside her. "Can you guarantee it won't happen again?"

"Have I...touched you since then?" He asked that carefully, leaning forward, arms crossing on the table. "Have I physically hurt you, my love? Hmm?"

She had no answer. No, he hadn't physically hurt her since Mustafar. Made her a prisoner by taking away her freedoms one by one, yes. Physically hurt, no. Padmé stared at him, keeping her hands flat on the table top, refusing to give in to the urge to lay them in her lap and bunch the fabric of her dress in them. Perspiration wet her palms.

Anakin shook his head. "Why are you trying to start a fight tonight? The first night we have alone since...." He paused, tilted his head, gaze sweeping her. His tongue wet his lips, anger fading from his eyes, replaced by an insufferably knowing expression. "No, don't answer that. I understand. Dormé's not the only one who's been doing some reading lately." Stretching one hand out, he ran his fingers along her arm. "You don't have to be afraid. You know I'll be gentle."

Padmé continued to stare at him. Well, if he thought that was her reason for bringing it up, then so be it. Better he assumed that than realized the truth of the matter: the wine had made her tongue loose. As she watched him, he appeared to realize his words weren't having the effect he'd hoped. She saw a calculating gleam flare for a second in his eyes and then he was smiling, all charm, taking her hand and drawing her from the table and into the upper level, where a band was playing. They danced close, swayed more than anything really.

He pressed kisses to her temple, was every inch the loving, attentive husband.

A little while later, they returned to the apartment. There were delicious spicy scents in the air from whatever Dormé had fixed for herself to eat and the apartment was silent. There were no sounds of crying babies and Padmé spied Threepio powered down along one wall. They were scarcely through the door when Anakin reached for her.

Padmé took a quick step to the left, as though she'd seen something out the window that had captured her interest, and moved further into the apartment. Anakin's mood became more amorous as the seconds passed. He fairly stalked her about the rooms. Padmé was careful not to let herself be cornered, but she knew she had to settle down eventually to the inevitability of his touch. She wasn't going to be able to put him off for much longer. She guessed she had only minutes at most before he ended this chase.

In an effort to pass time and put off the moment she dreaded, Padmé evaded his embrace once more and went onto the balcony, staring at the lights of the city. She heard his impatient sigh as he followed her. "I want to go home to Naboo." A longing filled her to smell the flowers, see the water, feel the warm breezes there. Naboo however, was as far away from her now as if it resided in another galaxy altogether.

His hands touched her hips, squeezed warmly. She felt the heat of his body along her back. Anakin's lips caressed her bare shoulder, worked up to her ear. "This is your home now, here on Coruscant, with me and our children."

She buried her longing deep inside her, wondering how much of herself she could hide away before he noticed. "I know," she replied, pressing closer to the balcony only to have him follow, trapping her against it. "An idle wish, nothing more."

His hands moved, skimmed forward, dragging her back to him. His arms went around her in a tight embrace. "We'll make this a home like your parent's home. Full of love, of life. But it'll be ours." Anakin's breath tickled her ear. "I won't allow anyone to take you or the twins away from me. Not ever. You'll be safe with me forever." He nuzzled her neck, then moved to the other side.

Padmé clutched at his arms, desperately trying to think of something else to say to stall him and at the same time, keep his hands from wandering. "I want my parents to meet them before Annie and Shmi are too much older," she gasped out.

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, loosing one hand and slipping it deftly beneath the side of her dress under her arm. He cupped her breast, thumb brushing her nipple. After a second, he paused, obviously trying to recall what she'd just said. "Uh...They will meet them. We'll take time and go there when matters settle a bit." Before he'd spoken the last word, he was moving his hands again, undoing the fastenings of her dress.

"Anakin! Not out here on the balcony!" Padmé grasped the fabric to keep it from sliding down her body. Somehow, without her noticing, he'd also undone the clasps holding the panels to her arms. If she let go, she'd be standing naked on the balcony for all of Coruscant to see.

"Then come inside," he said, turning her, kissing her, lifting her, "and quite stalling."

Anakin carried her into their room and laid her on their bed.

Padmé had the brief thought that they wouldn't go to Naboo anyway. It was a lie. He had no intention of sharing her with anyone or letting her go anywhere off-planet without him. But then, her attention was firmly caught by him and the mischievous, yet thoroughly heated glance he raked over her.

Annie, she thought. Is that you?

With a lopsided grin, Anakin reached for her, tugging the fabric of her dress with impatient fingers, giving the tiniest of good-natured frowns when she wasn't quick enough in lifting her hips to aid his undressing of her.

He was her Annie. Relief rose in her as she saw her husband at last fully before her. It wasn't simply a fleeting seconds long glimpse of him. He was there, in full possession of his body. She gasped sharply to keep from sobbing her relief. Everything about him was her Annie, from his passionate gaze to the way he dragged the fabric from her body. Patience was not a part of him right then, Anakin tossing the dress over his shoulder without a glance as to where it fell. The panels fluttered to the floor.

The lights came up, bathing the room with a soft glow. Not enough light to be glaring, but enough to see clearly.

One knee on the edge of their bed, Anakin paused. Slowly, he stretched out his left hand, trailing his fingertips along her body. From her collarbone he moved down, over one breast and lower. His touch tickled pleasantly.

Padmé's hands trembled as she grasped the covers beneath her tightly. A part of her was still so very afraid that the stranger would appear. She couldn't stop that trembling, or the queasy sensation that remained settled inside her. How terrifying she imagined it was going to be when the imposter reared up beside her once more. How much more so if they were joined together when he returned.

Her belly, nearly as flat as it had been before pregnancy, quivered when his fingers traced a serpentine design across it.

"I've never seen a more perfect woman in my entire life," he whispered. "My angel."

Anakin stepped back to undress, giving his clothing the same careless treatment he'd given her dress. He crawled onto the bed beside her, stretching out on his side. Now he stroked her hair, slipped his fingers through her curls. "You're still frightened," he asked, bending his head to brush a tender kiss across her lips.

"I have reason to be," she returned, wary and still. Her hands itched to reach for him as she'd done many times in the past. She wanted to touch him, move her own hands over his body and take pleasure in knowing he was hers. Her Annie. Her husband. But what if she did and glanced up to see that her Annie had gone away in a single second? What if....

"You don't have to be afraid, Padmé. I know the birth was difficult, but you're fine now. You're healed and healthy. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Padmé squeezed her eyes shut, letting her tears escape. "I'm afraid of you, Anakin." She barely heard the admission, so low it had been, and avoided reopening her eyes, fearful of seeing that change in him.

He wiped the tears from her face, kissed a few of them away. "Look at me, my love." Upon opening her eyes and seeing no difference in him, Padmé relaxed a tiny bit, her hands no longer clenching the covers. "You're my life. I love you and you love me. This is an expression of our love. You know that."

Should she chance it? Should she let herself rejoice in this time with him? Padmé lifted a hand, placed it on his bare chest. His skin was warm under her palm. "Don't hurt me."

His smile was gentle and reassuring. "Never."

With an expression that Padmé knew revealed she was gearing herself up for something she expected to be difficult, she raised herself up a little on one elbow, that hand on his chest slipping around to the back of his neck, nudging him down to meet her. Anakin let her control that kiss, an encouragement to her. It was sweet and gentle, with the undercurrent of desire that had always been simmering between them.

Difficult was certainly not the word for what transpired. In fact, it was the furthest word from the truth. Without one doubt, her Annie had returned to her for this night. Padmé was swept into memories, past moments of their lovemaking. She caressed him as he caressed her, both crying and laughing in her joy of having him with her. He said no more of her tears, kissing them away as they came.

In the past, they had been quick and passionate in their joining, but the past was gone now, Anakin taking his time with her. His mouth and hands explored her body in a way he hadn't done since their very first night together. There was no pain when he finally entered her, none of the discomfort he'd assumed she was afraid would occur.

The press of him inside her was a familiar pleasure, Padmé's hands never stopping in movement. She ran them along his back, his sides, and when he raised up on his hands over her, she trailed them across his chest and stomach. Sweat made their bodies slick. She met each movement, each thrust, with desire growing, spiraling out of control. Delicious heat toured her veins. Their kisses became sloppy as they gasped for breath.

"Look at me," she told him. "Please, Anakin."

He opened his eyes, stared down into hers as tension broke inside her. Padmé forced herself to keep her eyes open. Her lips parted, a noise of sheer ecstasy slipping free. She arched her back, reveling in the blissful sensations of desire fulfilled.

Anakin blinked several times, sucked in a breath and gave a final thrust. A satisfied groan burst from him. His features relaxed, his left arm shaking. Without taking his gaze from hers, he lowered himself back against her. His kiss was soft, the barest of nibbles at her mouth.

"I trust my lady is reassured?"

Her relief could not have been greater. Padmé's hands found his hair, threaded through the thick thatch. She nodded.

He kissed her again and Padmé gave herself over once more to passion's call.

~~~~~~~~~~

She was everything he wanted, needed, thirsted and hungered for. She was everything to him. He showed her he loved her with every kiss, every caress and every gasping of her name. Anakin worshipped her, his wife, his lover. He kissed away her fears and showed her she didn't have to be afraid. She didn't ever need to fear him. He loved her.

When he had shown her his feelings, he slept the sleep of the satisfied and Vader rose in his place.