Star Wars Love

Adult Star Wars fanfiction

Chapter 3

"Padme... wake up," a hand gently shook her from a night's rest to blinding sunshine.

"What is it, my love?" she replied, rising sleepily. The smell of morning dew haunted her senses. She cracked her eyes and looked around, taking stock of the room. The canopy bed, the veranda with the marble flooring, a picture of the Senate Rotunda on the wall... A frown touched her eyebrows, her mouth drawn down.

Anakin gazed lovingly, and smiled at her, a hand on her leg.

But it was a look of disgust that quickly filled Padme's eyes. She swiped the hand away, her soft skin colliding with metal. So soon she remembered where they were...and who they were now.

The smile Anakin wore fell away.

"What is it?" she asked, looking about the room and not at him.

His eyes bore into her face, a hurt look within them. "We're having breakfast. You'll eat with the rest of the family," he answered crisply.

"I'll eat in my room."

"Perhaps, you won't eat at all," he said rising from the cushion of her bed.

"So be it."

"This is ridiculous," Anakin exclaimed.

Padme laid down, drawing the blanket that covered her legs to her shoulder, and closed her eyes. Maybe if she wished hard enough, he'd go away.

"Are you so angry with me that you'll deny the children a breakfast with their mother?"

Padme ignored him. She ate with the children every morning, but wouldn't as long as Anakin was in the house.

He looked down at her, a murderous gleam in his eyes. He used violence to keep the peace, to squash opponents, to fill the enemy with fear and dread. But Padme...

Anakin scoffed and ripped the covers back. But still, she did not respond. It was what Padme called, passive resistance.

He rolled his mechanical hand into a fist.

"Don't think I won't hit you," he warned. Violence was a way of getting what he wanted. And it seemed, even at home he was pushed into using force as a means of attaining peace. In the end, he would be blamed when all she needed to do was accept his terms to begin with.

Padme rose, sliding out of bed and Anakin smirked, satisfied by the response and folded both arms before chest. Padme drew close to his face and growled. "It never stopped you before-"

"Are we going to do this again?"

"You tell me, Anakin? Why don't you just leave me alone! I don't want to sit across a table from you."

"You're tearing this family apart," he growled, storming away from her. "You're only hurting the children." He pointed a finger accusingly.

"Oh. So now you care about children? Where was that care when you were striking children down at the Temple? Where was it then, Anakin?" It was a serious question. She searched his eyes, face indignant before spinning around to face the veranda.

But Anakin stalked toward her and grabbed her arm, snapping her back. "You'll never forgive me," he observed angrily.

"You don't deserve my forgiveness. You don't deserve anyone's forgiveness."

She tried to shake him lose. But Anakin held tight to her upper arms, squeezing as he pushed her away from the veranda for fear she would leap to her death than stand by his side.

Four adorable eyes watched sadly from the doorway. Leia still wore a nightgown, with little pink and yellow gungan prints on them. Luke sucked his thumb, large blue eyes weepy, watching.

"Unhand me. Don't ever touch me," she warned. "Threepio," Padme called.

Anakin laughed. "So you think Threepio will save you?" he pulled her close and the children stood back, waiting, watching the horrible drama unfold.

"Threepio," Padme called again, her voice shakey and upset.

Threepio, the little protocol droid peered around the corner, somewhat warily.

"I could kill you with one blink," Anakin warned, his eyes boring into Padme's face.

She looked over his shoulder at Threepio. "Take the children to the dining room and let them have breakfast. I won't be joining you this morning."

"Yes, Madame. Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine."

"No, everything is not fine. And she will be joining us for breakfast."

"Take the children," Padme said, hearing the heated soar of her husband's voice.

"This is exactly what you wanted. You want me to look like the bad guy."

Padme twisted from his grasp and scrambled toward the bed. He pushed her over, then climbed on her lap, his hand grabbing her shoulders.

Threepio and the two children peered through the door, too shocked to walk away, not that their shaking legs would carry them anyhow. Padme cried out, and the door blew closed in their faces and locked, her screams reaching them through the door.

Threepio looked as worried as droid could possibly look.

"Don't worry, little ones. I'm sure they'll work things out."

A hiccupped sob escaped Leia's lips and both children began to wail.

"Oh dear," Threepio said.


Padme and Anakin scowled across the table at each other. The children were grim. Their mother scraped food across her plate, eating as though it were her last meal. Tears stained her face, though she did her best to look as dignified as possible. SO many storm troopers in the house and they had all heard. The ugly fighting, the crying and shouting through her closed door. Only to see her walking down the hall moments later, Anakin's hand clasped around hers... her dark hair somewhat disheveled, gown twisted aside. The result of their angry love making.

She thought about the moment, shame creeping into her reddened face. Her mind flashing back to Anakin and her angry words, somehow turning into impassioned angry kisses, his raising of her gown and the swift unbuckling of his pants.

The kids gulped milk and hoi broth, and being children they had already moved on from the tense moments of earlier.

Luke looked across the table, from one parent to another.

"Stop looking and eat your food," Anakin demanded.

Luke's eyes fell to his plate as he softly kicked his sister's leg, beneath the table, nudging her.

Movement near the door brought their miserable faces around.

A troop had entered, Padme's fallen sash in hand. Somehow she had dropped it on her way into the dining room. Anakin turned outraged eyes onto the out of line storm trooper, and without so much as moving a hand, the man dropped just outside the door, and with a nod, the others were dragging his limp body off - before the children might even notice.

Seeing this, Padme stood, dropping her fork onto her plate. She raced from the table through the kitchen out onto the garden, wanting air, wanting to breathe. But halfway to her destination, something snapped her back and she collapsed onto the grass. Pain stinging her neck.

Padme touched the necklace she wore. She was sure the specifications allowed her to roam further. Pain struck her head. She looked up, blinking tears from her eyes at the figure towering above her.

"I changed the perimeters. You'll go only 50 feet from the house, and not 100."

Padme turned her face to the dirt and sobbed. Anakin swooped low and gathered his inconsolable wife into his arms, and carried her back into the house.

Anakin raced through the Jedi Temple, it's halls resonant with emptiness, made his chest ache for all that was once here. He kept his mind from the lurid details of his actions years before. They made him hurt. They made Padme hurt. But there was no undoing what he had done so why dwell upon it? Why allow it to cause him or his wife more pain?

He hurried to Obi Wan Kenobi's office, his black cloak billowing behind him.

Obi Wan sat, a small youngling in his lap, squirming about.

Anakin entered, a smile creeping onto his face at the sight of his former master, tending to younglings.

"A Force potential?"

"Yes, meet our latest member. Mara Jade."

Anakin crouched, stooping close to the 3 year old child. "Hello," he said, meeting the girl's curious but strong gaze.

Obi Wan set her on the floor and beckoned her to leave the room. Steel blue eyes met Anakin's piercing blue gaze.

"Something is wrong," the master observed.

Anakin stood then marched toward the window, and set his gaze to Coruscant's towering skyscrapers. "When I come here... I don't know master. I remember all that happened in these walls. I can't help but feel that my actions were too hasty. Too... brutal."

"And Padme will not forgive you, will she?"

Anakin turned, looking at his former master again. "Yes, it's true. But I sincerely wish I would have, at the very least, spared the Younglings, as Padme said I should."

"But you didn't."

"Tell me master. You came here with the intent of striking me down. What stopped you? It wasn't fear, I sensed as much."

Obi Wan stood, hands on his waist, face thoughtful. "Well... it was a matter of choosing the lesser of two evils."

"You think I'm evil?" Anakin asked, a look of hurt in his eyes.

"I think your decisions are evil. But that day I decided, what happened here, the bloodshed could not be undone. And the Council had not acted appropriately, having assassinated many of our senators and others they could not come to peaceful terms with. I had already followed their lead, and at that moment, I realized that following their lead is what had led us to that very moment. It was not the way to go. Just as my master had told me. Independent thinking. And it was our stale old ways that caused many tragedies to occur. Including your rage here within these walls. The Order had lost its way. And to side with Master Yoda and Master Windu, would have been to embrace all things unchanged."

"You did it because you have more influence over me than you do them."

Obi Wan gave him a grim smile. "That too."

"How much will change within the New Order? I think Jedi should be allowed to marry."

Obi Wan waved a hand. "No, that wouldn't do."

"Why? Why not? You saw what happened with me and Padme. The secrecy drove me to the brink of insanity."

"You were undisciplined."

"There's nothing evil about attachment. Sure, it gets in the way, sometimes. But a true test of ones discipline is to act despite ones attachments. To act out of love, and not some pathetic cause or OATH. So many Jedi lost, not because they believed in what they were doing, but because they felt bound to their oaths they had taken. Because they were brainwashed. THe reason the Sith existed in the first place, was because the Jedi Order was imperivous to change. Unwilling to listen to others, to compromise, and so the SIth made their own rules and their own religion. They were former Jedi, driven from the Order just as I was. We don't want that to happen again. Change is sometimes good."

Obi Wan couldn't help but notice how much he sounded like Padme Amidala.

"The Sith used your attachments against you. How are attachments not a bad thing?"

"The Sith didn't used my attachment, they used the Jedi's fear of attachment against us."

What Anakin said made perfect sense. Perhaps, this was yet another change to be addressed. Anakin's love for Padme never stopped him from carrying out his duty. Nor did it stop him from sacrificing his life when he was a Jedi.

"I'll give it some thought, Anakin. But moving along, I sense other reasons have brought you to my office."

A look of great pain washed over Anakin's face. He looked down, eyes focused on his dark colored boots. "Padme and I are having problems."

Obi Wan didn't look too surprised. He paced across the room back to his desk. "She's unhappy."

"Yes, my master. She hates me."

"Padme would hate no one."

"She doesn't love me anymore. It's driving me mad. And sometimes... I do terrible things."

Another strike against attachment, Obi Wan thought. "To Padme?"

Anakin nodded. "I wouldn't hurt her," he assured, "but we fight horribly sometimes. She won't forgive me. There's nothing I can do... I just--I love her so much."

"You can't make her forgive you, Anakin."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" he asked, folding his arms.

"Let her go."

"Never." His lips made a firm white line.

"Possesiveness, greed, all trademarks of the darkside."

"I don't mean to feel that way. But if she goes, I know, she'll never come back."

"This isn't the strongest argument for attachment, Anakin."

The former Jedi realized his error, then with drew his point of view.

"My adive is to do what you can to win her love. And the only way to do that, is to step down."

"As emperor?" He folded arms across his chest.

"You must choose. Just as you were forced to choose between the Jedi and your marriage. You must decide what is more important to you. You must be kind and unwilling, full of compromise. These are all the qualities that Padme have always embraced. You know her as well as I do."

"I am always giving up the things I want for her and not the other way around."

"You want to be emperor, then?" Obi Wan gave him a suspicious look.

"I want a peaceful galaxy. Has nothing to do with the power being emperor gives me. We find a suitable successor, then I would gladly leave office."

"Sounds similar to something Palpatine might have said."

Anakin cringed. Perhaps, I'll have someone in the senate draw something up. You are right master. The only way to prove my love to Padme, is to give that very thing away, that caused me to lose her love to begin with. You are right..."

Obi Wan stood as Anakin left the office.

Padme left the children's bedrooms, where they played in Leia's little doll house. She had calmed from her fight with Anakin, grateful he was out of the house. Or rather, out of the prison he had built for her.

She entered her bedroom, looking about. Then suddenly, something caught her eye. A tall, black storm trooper stood in the shadows on the other side of the room.

She gasped, clutching her chest, her heart racing. Then it dawned on her... this was not a storm trooper. He didn't wear the standard armor or carry a rifle. He wore a large black helmet with dark orbs for eyes. There was a flashing panel across his chest that blinked frantically in the darkened room. His breathing crushed the silence with a hard WOOSH SHING WOOOOOSH sound.

Padme backed away. "Who are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. The necklace around her neck loosened and fell to the floor by way of the force.

"You're rescuer," he said, in a thunderous robotic voice that sent chills up her spine.

Padme gulped. "Are you... a storm trooper?"

"IF you wish to flee, I am here to assist you. "

"Flee? As in leave, here? Permanently?" Who would have the nerve to do this to Anakin? The most feared man in the Republic...she wondered.

"If that is your wish."

It was. It had been her wish for a very long time. "But... I don't know who you are?"

"A friend," the voice said in a calm tone. "News of your predicament has reached me. I've come to relieve you."

Padme walked across the room, noting the lightsaber clipped to the man's belt.

"Why are you wearing that suit?" she asked him suspiciously.

"An injury after the Clone Wars."

"You fought in the Clone Wars?"

"I can answer your questions, but not at this time. If you wish to go, you must leave now."

"I won't leave without my children," Padme said, her heart skipping at the idea of leaving her prison.

"Gather their clothing and take them with. But you must hurry."

There was an urgency in his voice.

She nodded, grateful for the chance to strike out on her own. To leave her husband's horrible grasp.

Padme opened the drawers in her room, flung a suitcase on the bed and stuffed as much as she could inside, flittering manically back and forth.

She ran from her bedroom, and returned some minutes later, the children's suitcases packed to the point of bursting.

"Mommy! Mommy! Where are we going?"

"We're leaving. We're going to our new home."

"But I don't want a new home!" Leia cried. "I want my daddy!"

Padme cringed. "He's coming too," she lied.

Leia calmed, then shot a nervous look at the stranger standing in the shadows near mommy's bed.

Luke clung to Padme's leg.

"What about the storm troopers," she ranted, suddenly realizing escape was surely impossible.

"They have already been taken care of."

Padme gave him a strained looked. "You didn't hurt them, did you?"

"They are still alive. But out of the way for the moment."

Padme sighed in relief, and followed the tall blackly cloaked trooper out of the door.

Chapter 4


Anakin paced outside of the compoud. There was something small in his hand. And a bouquet of flowers in the other. Padme was inside. Still angry with him. He'd make it up to her. He always did. Sometimes he bought her things. Jewelry, or an all expense paid trip to the destination of her choice, though that never worked because she didn't want him to come.

Tonight he was going to make things extra special. He'd give her a gift...the gift of his heart. She still loved him. He knew she did.

Anakin opened his hand. Inside, there was a small braided rope with a wooden charm that he made when he was a little boy and had given to Padme. He had taken it from her years earlier, ripping it from her neck when they fought on Mustafar. The time he had been pushed so far over the edge that he nearly killed her. He promised himself he'd never hurt her again. But again, he did. And time and time again she forgave until there was no more forgiveness left for her to give. She could only stand so much. She was only human.

Anakin sat on a nearby bench, his head turning to look at the window of her darkened room. He would make amends for all he had done. He would give her the freedom she so desperately wanted. Sure, he was taking a chance. There was the possibility that Padme would leave the house and never come back. Unless...

He gave her a job. A political post. One that would allow her to oversee the re-building of Democracy within the government. She could write the terms, add amendments to the constitution allowing him to hand over his title as Emperor and setting the terms of electing a new Chancellor. It was the ultimate sacrifice, indeed. But he would do anything to win her back.


He thought about Padme's recovery, following their fight on Mustafar. How badly things had gone downhill from there. When she asked him about the temple, he should have done right thing. He should have lied.

This realization hit him just after the cast set on her neck and shoulder had been removed some four months later, and she was up and about walking again. Her first act was not to be with him... but to pack her bags and leave. Despite the fact that Anakin had begged and pleaded with her to stay.

Padme stood beside her suitcases, awaiting an air taxi, the babies in her arms outside of their old Republica apartment where her convalescence had taken place. She had given the storm troopers a hard time when they tried to keep her inside. And of course, they couldn't mishandle their boss' wife. So they called Anakin who hurried from his post at the nearby Rotunda to cut her off. To stop her from leaving.

He parked his speeder before her, at the street curb, catching the determined look in her eyes as she rocked the babies back and forth. Anakin jumped out of the speeder, one hand on the door which he had propped open. He then grabbed her suitcases.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked. Nodding his head toward the babies.

He looked in her eyes, and saw the stubborn hurt within them. But he also saw the conflict, the love she still felt.

"My plans have not changed," Padme said. "You may have used your physical prowess to stop me from leaving, but you will never stop my heart from going where it wants to go."

He walked toward her... slowly, legs dragging casually behind him.

"And where do you want to go? With me."

She sighed, looking down at the babies that looked so much like their father.

His eyes bore into hers, and gleamed with his sincerity. "You still love me, Padme."

She fought to keep her body from shaking. He was right, she loved him so much. She felt herself breaking, but held firm.

"I can't," she gasped, fighting to keep the stream of tears collecting in her eyes from falling.

Anakin drew even closer, bringing his chin above her head, inhaling the sweet flowery aroma of her hair.

"I'll do anything he whispered," laying his hands on her arms softly.

But still, the former senator was conflicted. The love her life above her committment to justice? Could she choose?

"You want me to beg? I'll beg. I'll beg right here before the whole of Coruscant. Before my subordinates, before civilians... before the entire Republic," he said.

Anakin slid to one knee, his hands slowly trailing her arms as he dropped.


"I don't care, let them look," he said, motioning accusingly at gawking passerbys.

"Stop it, please," she said, confliction in her voice. "I just cant... you hurt me."

"I know, I'll never do it again. I swear Padme, whatever you want I'll do. You know I will."

"I want you to leave the Republic. Let diplomacy resume."

This was the senator talking and not his wife. He bit his anger down, eyes lowering.

"I will, I swear," he answered.

"Promise you won't shut me out... when I ask you about...what happened," she trailed, seeing a look of anger flash in his eyes. Again, he bit it down, adopting a softer look.

She was driven, wanting to learn more about the temple. The tragic invasion and destruction led by him and his storm troopers. During her convalescence, she had asked him about it. Weeping uncontrollably as she did. And yet, he refused to answer Padme, telling her to stay out of his business matters.

"C'mon Padme. You're milking all of the apology out of me." He smiled. That disarming smile!

"I didn't think it would be like this, between us. We used to be so happy."

"So help me, Padme, I swear things will be so much better. I will love you, as passionately as I ever have. I will love our children, provide for you all. I can do that now. I'll get counseling, confer with Obi Wan about my anger. I didn't know what I was doing that awful night... I-I lost control. It wasn't me."

"Indeed. Indeed you did." She touched his face. "I know, there is still so much good in you."

He pressed his cheek to her hand, eyes closing at the warmth of her touch.

"Then let me prove it to you. Come back to me."

"Anakin... people are staring."

"Will you take me back? I'll stay on my hands and knees all night if I have to."

Padme hesistated, then looking all the faces staring at them, as famous as her husband was. As famous as she was, being his wife. Eager to get him to his feet, she replied: "I'll stay." Padme said.

He smiled. As though she had a choice, he thought.

Anakin rose, standing to full height, his arms sliding beneath hers to take the baby. Luke. He gestured toward the speeder, his other hand settling at the small of her back.

"We have some work to do," Padme said, much authority in her voice.

Yeah. Sure. he thought.

Anakin sat beside her and the speeder took off. Rising to their love nest, where he parked on the veranda above. He knew Padme wanted to talk. But all he could think about was making love. The babies were seven weeks old when he had seen her again, following the battle of Coruscant. And then there was four months for her to heal, following their fight.

And he couldn't wait. There would be no talking. And if there was, he planned to say whatever it was that Padme wanted to hear.

Anakin climbed out of the speeder, grabbing her suitcases from a compartment in the back. Padme carried the babies inside, away from the cool breeze that whipped her curly free flowing hair into a frenzy. Anakin watched the swish of her hips as she walked inside.

She turned and called his name. He rushed in after her, eager to settle the children somewhere, with Threepio, D210? One of the servants? He didn't give a crap.

Anakin sat her suitcases outside of their bedroom then stalked to the children's bedroom.

"I think they're hungry," Padme said, seemingly to herself. "Yes, my darlings, time to eat," she continued, tickling the babies as they kicked their legs, side by side in a single crib.

"They're fine," Anakin said, walking into the room. He pulled her away from the children, her hands in his. "Let Colla feed them."

"It's been so long since I've even held them."

"It's been so long since you've held me."

"I suppose..." she answered, wondering if she was ready.

His eyes bore into hers. "I think you can handle it. Or maybe not," he added.

Padme couldn't help but smile. "I guess we'll find out."

Colla entered, bowing mannerably before her employers.

Padme followed Anakin to their bedroom, his hand like a vice around her wrist. They closed the door. With some urgency, Anakin pulled Padme into his arms, inviting her to a kiss. His hand cupped her chin, tilting her face upward. Their problems seemed to melt from the heat of their passion, as Anakin stripped out of his cloak, tunic, and pants somewhat swiftly, simultaneously helping Padme out of her clothes. She hadn't worn much anyway, but a dress. Padme slid it over her head, climbing into bed with her husband.

Some hours later, they curled together in post coital bliss. His hand rose up and down her spine, her legs locked around his, face buried in his muscular chest. He gazed at her face, taking a snapshot of her in his mind.

"You're mine, forever," he whispered, as though she were some possession and not a person. He squeezed her tight, shaking her from her rest. So soon, he was ready to go another round.

The following day, Padme watched as Anakin dressed, prepared to conquer some offworld planet still under the control of the separatist.

"I thought the war was over," she said.

"Unfortunately, it's not. But don't worry my love, I'll only be a few days."

"Anakin, I'm worried."

He laughed, snapping his leather glove over his mechanical hand. "About me? How can you worry about me? With Obi Wan at my side, we can do anything. I am more powerful than anyone. And you have me. You should be grateful," he teased.

He turned and walked toward the bed and drew her arms around his waist. "Have something for me when I come back," he whispered.

Padme met his eyes... a silent yes.

He pulled himself from her grasp and strode out of the door, offering her a mock salute as he went.

Padme fell back to the cushion of her bed, suddenly no longer angry. Misunderstandings happen. Anakin wasn't a malicious man. He didn't do what he did at the temple because he wanted to, or because he enjoyed it. He foolishly thought he was doing the right thing. But as long as he repented, she thought. Do something to atone for his sins.

Padme heard the speeder fly off, then climbed out of bed. She opened the bedroom door, tying the sash to her robe tight. She stepped out, nearly jumping out of her skin at the sight of two armed guards.

Her eyebrows drew down in anger. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Lord Skywalker asked that you remain here in the apartment."

"You can't be serious," she gasped.

The man gauged the rifled, snapping it up and back. "We will use force if necessary. You are to see the children, eat, and return to your room until his Lordship is back."

Padme stared, face stunned. She brushed past the man and walked to the children's bedroom. She put the babies in a bassinett and pushed them down the hall to her room, bottles in hand. She had long stopped nursing. Her injuries and cast saw to that, she thought with some anger.

Hours later, as the children slept, Padme could think of nothing to do. She opened the door, marching before the storm troopers.

"What am I supposed to do for entertainment?" she barked, now bored out of her mind. Padme was used to doing things... cleaning house, visiting with friends, watching the news. "Where's my holoreader?"

The storm trooper signaled another, gesturing toward an unread device. The other gave it to him, and the storm trooper assessed the reader turning it upside down and back before handing it to her.

Padme snatched it from his hand and slammed the door in his face.

Two days, she had been that way, trapped in her room like a wild animal. Several times she thought of taking her chances and making a run for it. But the rifles frightened her, always aimed in her direction as it was. The men were so terribly frightened of Anakin, they would put her down to please him, if necessary.

She waited for Anakin, standing on the balcony just outside her bedroom. She didn't see him come from the other direction, nor did she hear him enter the apartment and order Colla to watch over the sleeping children.

He entered the room, a warm smile spread across his face as he dropped his cloak to the floor and walked toward her. But Padme would have none of it. She stalked across the room, pointing her finger accusingly.

"How could you?" she yelled.

"My love?"


Anakin smacked his lips. "Oh. That."

She gave him a questioning look.

"I come home and this is the greeting I get?"

"Anakin... I've been trapped in this room for two days."

"You were allowed to go to the kitchen, and the children's bed room. Was that a problem for you?"

"Allowed?" she asked, head turned sideways. "Don't ever do that again. You can't imagine how frightened I was."

"I'll keep them outside of the apartment for now on." He had already made his point in keeping them outside. Padme had better not think of leaving him again. Anakin could barely go on his mission, for fear of her being gone when he came back.

"I won't have guards standing outside of my apartment! I don't need guards."

Anakin drew his breath. "I need guards. I need them to guard you. I can't have you taking my children away, and running off to some force-forsaken planet. You're my wife and I want you here when I come back."

He ripped his tunic open, peeled it off tossed it aside.

"I'm an adult. And I don't need to be watched. If I decide to leave, then I will."

"You can try," he said, grabbing her by the arm and squeezing her body to his. "I told you to have something for me when I came back," he whispered.

Padme turned her head away.

He grabbed her by the collar of her gown, popping the top few buttons open and massaged her breast. Padme tried to pull away, but he pulled her back, setting her before him as he unzipped his pants. "Stop fighting. You like it," he whispered, eyes intense.

She couldn't lie. She did indeed, enjoy the lightness and sensuality of his touch. He pressed both hands into her shoulders.

"We'll work something out," he whispered. "Something that works for both of us."

He'd say anything to get her in bed again. Padme nodded, somehow, believing him. He led her hands to his waist, and stroked his length.

The following morning, she opened the door to their bedroom. Two guards stood on the other side.

Mistake number 1

Anakin gazed at the window of Padme's room at his Coruscanti compound. He would make it all up to her. Somehow.

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