The Love of a Sith (aka The Chosen One)

A Late Night Encounter

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Padme woke to a light breeze tickling her skin. She sighed, snuggling into the comforting heat curled around her, desiring nothing more than to lie there forever in her little bubble of peace.

Grabbing the hands wrapped around her, she brought them to her chest - both the metal and the flesh - squeezing tenderly. There was a hitch of breath, and then the grip on her small frame suddenly tightened, the body behind reflexively inching closer to hers. She gave a small yelp of surprise, turning around in the embrace for a playful tease.

Though his grasp on her remained secure and unyielding, the eyes of her lover were still screwed securely shut with sleep, his change in breathing subsiding once more to slow exhales and his heart continuing its steady thud.

A light fluttering grew in Padme's chest, making her tingle with warmth. He was still asleep, yet his body unwittingly knew it wanted to be closer to her . . .

She lifted her hand, lightly stroking the scar running over his right eye, then moving to smooth out the lines on his forehead- clenched from the burden that was so constantly put on him.

Sometimes Padme wanted to curse at the title of "Chosen One", bash it to pieces and take her beloved far away where no one could touch him. She hated it, hated the stress he was put under and the pressure of the galaxy, hated the way he was treated, whether it was with challenge or spite or even idolization. She didn't need the great hero; she wanted him as Anakin, only Anakin- without the glory, just as himself.

Padme wished he knew that.

That he could hold her and know that she accepted him just as he was, with all his flaws and vulnerabilities, without anything else.

She wished their duty wasn't their reality: that for once they could set aside what was required of them and make their own destiny, one where it was just him and her and the baby, no laws or expectations.

Just them and their love.

But dreams weren't reality.

Sighing, she pushed his blond locks away from his face, pushing up closer to him and laying her head on his shoulder, her lips near his ear. "Ani . . . "

He gave a low groan, the sound rumbling lazily up his throat before he shifted just a fraction of an inch. "Mhhm?"

Padme hid a smile. "Ani, you have to be at the Temple soon." She spoke as persuasively as she was able in the circumstances, dragging herself away from his tempting heat lest her already crumbling will give way entirely.

"No," he mumbled sleepily, pulling her firmly back into his warm chest, his eyes squeezing all the more firmly shut.

She rolled her eyes, amused. "Anakin, we can't stay here forever."

"Yes, we can," he murmured, his breath in her hair sending shivers down her spine and inducing an involuntary giggle. "My beautiful wife is going to lie here forever and let me hold her until the Sith take down the Temple. Then . . . " he yawned slowly. "Maybe I'll get up."

Padme laughed, attempting to pull herself unsuccessfully out of his strong grasp. "Anakin, come on, stop playing around."

He finally opened his eyes, the bright blue cerulean not hazed with sleep but now sparkling mischievously. "Oh, I can show you playing around," he whispered teasingly, leaning forward to bite lightly at her neck. "What say you, Angel, we stay in bed- just a little longer."