IMAGE

Tsum-Tsum T-shirt, by Disney
WALLPAPER

Untitled
by Grant Gould (for StarWars.com)

FAN ART
by master--burglar
by master--burglar
FAN FICTION
Rush
by Love and Rock Music. (TCW) The first half of "Destroy Malevolence," as Anakin and Padmé make their way towards each other.

P/A SITE
The Anakin and Padmé Gallery

CALENDAR
Desktop Calendar // March/April 2015

 


FAN FICTION : ATTACK OF THE CLONES ERA

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Stolen Kiss

by Nikki

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If Anakin had still been upset about their argument in front of the Queen, the dress that Padmé wore the next day obliterated any remaining grudge he had against her. A rainbow of pastels, the airy fabric of the gown gave an impression of weightlessness, floating along the ground, billowing gently as she walked. It was simple, elegant, and perfect for the beautiful day, and light years removed from the heavy, dark formal gowns she wore as Senator or during her tenure as Queen. After the unpleasantness of the previous day, she needed something to brighten her spirits.

The sun warmed her bare back as the water speeder taking Anakin and her to their hideaway cut across the lake like a knife in cream. Padmé let the cool wind tickle her face, neck, and her exposed upper arms and shoulders. The beauty and serenity of her planet was making Coruscant seem like a faded dream, and the assassin an ancient memory. Even the Military Creation Act had drifted out of her consciousness. Her burdens fled in the face of the sun, sky, and water, vanquished by the melodies of the birds and the rustle of the green trees. At that instant, it seemed impossible that she could ever leave the planet again and resume that other existence.

Anakin sat beside her in the narrow skiff behind the driver. Occasionally he reached his hand over the side to feel the spray kicked up by the boat, while he chatted with the driver about the boat's speed capabilities. Padmé smiled to herself. The Padawan never stopped asking questions, never stopped seeking out limitations with the purpose of redefining them. Anakin would never be satisfied living within boundaries set by other people; he needed to make his own. She wondered if the Jedi Order would be enough for him to find fulfillment in life-probably not, she conceded.

Up ahead, the rooftop of the lake house where they were to stay peeked through the trees. It sat near the edge of the lake, on a piece of land that jutted into the water. It was the only housing visible to the naked eye. Their sole connection to the outside world would be Anakin's communicator. A nervous little thrill went through her.

The driver pulled up to the stone dock near the side of the villa and got out. Anakin went next, then extended his hand to Padmé. Two servant girls showed up, waiting to take their luggage up to the house. They wouldn't be entirely alone, after all, she noted. So was that relief she felt, or disappointment?

"Nice little place you got here," Anakin joked, clearly impressed with the surroundings.

"In the middle of nowhere," Padmé laughed.

"Well, isn't that the point?" he asked softly. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle with the water, and she found herself staring into them. So deep, she thought. Her gaze settled on his lips, and unconsciously, she swallowed. A moment later, she realized he was returning the stare, and the blood rose to her cheeks.

"Let's take a look around," she suggested hastily, picking up her skirts and starting to climb the stairs.

He followed her, and they soon found themselves on the front terrace, overlooking the water. Rolling green hills separated water from sky. On the balustrade, large pots overflowing with vibrant red flowers and curtains of thick vines cast an intimate spell over the whole area.

"We used to come here for school retreat," Padmé explained as they walked along, her voice quieted by the lush surroundings. Cherished memories descended on her as she spotted a small island in the middle of the lake. "We would swim to that island every day. I love the water."

They reached the end of the terrace and leaned against the balustrade, facing the lake. "We used to lie out on the sand and let the sun dry us," Padmé continued, "and try to guess the names of the birds singing." Were you ever that carefree? a small voice inside her sighed. It seemed so long ago...another life ago.

Anakin traced a crack in the railing. "I don't like sand," he said candidly. "It's coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere."

A little smile flickered across Padmé's face. As a native of Tatooine, it wasn't a big surprise that he wasn't particularly fond of sand. He'd probably seen enough in his first ten years to last a lifetime. How foreign the clean, structured world of Coruscant must have been to him at first.

"Not like here," he added. "Here, everything is soft...and smooth."

Something in the tone of his voice suddenly made Padmé aware of the sound of the insects as they flew among the flowers.

Of the sound of her breathing.

Of every square millimeter of her exposed skin.

She quickly looked away as she felt his hand touch hers. The sensation was like a hot jolt of electricity rocketing up her arm, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. It took her breath away; she felt paralyzed, even though her heart was pounding in her chest like a frenzied drum.

Then his hand moved to her bare back, to the vulnerable skin just below her shoulder. The light caress lasted only a second, but it sent her reeling. She didn't know what to do; nothing in her professional life had prepared her for the tumult of emotion his touch had unleashed. She forced herself to look at his face, struggling to summon the words she knew she must say.

But one glance at him, and all words of resistance turned to dust in her throat, for in his eyes she saw the mirror of her own. Desire stood alone, unfettered by the shackles of duty and propriety, class and age. She knew, before he made a single move, without any words passing his lips, that he was going to kiss her, going to kiss her the way a man kisses the woman he adores, and that she wanted him to, and that she was going to let him.

She heard his breathing, watched his mouth as he came closer, and caught her breath just as his lips claimed hers. He kissed her slowly, hotly, thoroughly, as if time were no longer a concern. In that world, there were no Jedi, no Senators, no Republic, no Separatists, only the two of them, sharing the bond they could no longer deny...could never deny. She kissed him back fully, caught up in the deliberate slide of his lips against hers, lost in the magical sensation of coming alive for the first time. The pressure of his mouth intensified, driving her higher. She wanted him badly, needed him-

"No!" she gasped, tearing herself away. She stared out at the water and took a deep, shaky breath. "I shouldn't have done that."

"I'm sorry, milady," he apologized helplessly, the spell of the moment broken.

She could feel Anakin's confused gaze upon her, but she didn't dare look at him for fear of losing the remaining shreds of her frail resolve. She had done exactly what she had told herself could never happen. And you would have done more if you hadn't come to your senses! The thought made her face burn, even as she still felt the tingle his lips had left on hers. What was happening here?

Neither of them moved for several more minutes, during which Padmé fervently hoped Obi-Wan's mission would not encounter any untimely hitches. Being in hiding was proving to be about as dangerous as staying on Coruscant.

 
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