The End Justifies the Means

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Desperate Farewells

"Days of absence, sad and dreary,
Clothed in sorrow's dark array,
Days of absence, I am weary;
She I love is far away."

William Shakespeare

The horrible sensation hit me the moment I stepped down into the water speeder. The warm, golden sunshine that had been caressing my face vanished beneath an innocent looking bank of fleecy white clouds, temporarily casting the surroundings into chilly, gray shadow. As I turned to help Padmé in, I was struck with a feeling, almost a bittersweet premonition. Something was telling me I would never see or feel the sun again in that wondrous place. Even when the burning star reappeared to bathe us in its welcoming glow seconds later, I couldn’t shake the surety of that thought.

No matter how hard I tried.

****
My strange mood had not improved by the time we reached Theed. If anything it had grown worse. Once on board, Padmé and I barely spoke a word other than a few polite phrases of cordiality and meglesgless platitudes. We each were lost in our own thoughts of our impending farewell and all that it implied. Grief clogged my throat at the thought of leaving her. I stole a quick look at her stiff back and frowned. At least I assumed I was not solitary in my depressing thoughts. It was difficult to tell if she was suffering as much as I when she kept her face turned to the view and a tight rein on her emotions.

I wasn’t even afforded the normal comfort between lovers. By necessity the intimacy our anonymity had afforded us at the remote retreat disappeared the second we’d left its safety. Force! I couldn’t even hold her hand for any longer than it took to assist her on to the shuttle. In the world we were moving back into, I was merely a bodyguard, the senator’s protector - not her friend, not her lover, and most definitely not her husband. In the eyes of those who observed us, I had no right to touch her beyond the bounds of courtesy.

It didn’t help my increasingly foul state of mind that the further we moved from that idyllic place, the further and further Padmé seemed to withdraw from me. It never crossed my mind that she was distancing herself in preparation for my departure. Nor did it occur to me that she was struggling against her deep seated feelings and her need to hide her sorrow and pain from others. All I knew was that she was pulling away from me, physically and emotionally. And it both frightened and angered me. All the reminders of the distance between our worlds, our positions, our very way of life, tumbled through my head like razor edged stones. With every pass they nicked and scraped at my composure, tearing away pieces of my soul.

My insides were tied up in knots of dread and a sick nervous agitation. Maintaining that unnatural charade of avoiding all but the most necessary of physical contact was utter torture; one that was not alleviated even when we reached the bustling capital. Even with all our precautions, risk of discovery followed us everywhere.

Padmé eschewed her elegant wardrobe and instead wore a simple dress to help her blend in with the general populace. But her face was the problem. Not only was she a popular former queen but she was also a senator who’d been in recent holonews stories as the victim of several assassination attempts. Recognition in the city where she lived and worked was inevitable if anyone got a good look at her. The inconspicuous gown helped but it was Threepio’s suggestion of a veil that brought some lessening in our fears. For the first time since departing the Coruscant’s Pride, I found myself thankful I hadn’t left the protocol droid with the Lars after all.

Padmé produced a silk scarf from one of her cases and we attached it with some hair pins, weaving it into the same flowing hairstyle she’d worn on the picnic but without the crocheted ornaments on either side of her head – much too fancy for a working class woman seeing off a friend. When we’d finished her makeshift disguise the blue gossamer shimmersilk draped gracefully across her face, hanging dow jus just below her collarbone. The material stretched loosely over the bridge of her nose, allowing only her beautiful eyes to be seen. I had to admit I liked the effect; she seemed even more exotic than usual, like some mysterious princess who had to be kept from the prying eyes of any who would despoil her.

My own attire was that of refugee, the same I’d worn on our original journey from Coruscant. If it hadn’t been for my clandestine marriage, I wouldn’t have bothered. With no need to for subterfuge, it hardly mattered if I traveled as a Jedi or a refugee, after all, once I stepped aboard my transportation home, I had no one but Threepio and myself to protect. And often times the Jedi garb alone ensured an unmolested trip. But in order to add one more layer to our temporary identities I had to play the part to the hilt. So the clothing that would have proclaimed me as a Jedi was safely packed in a small case borrowed from Padmé’s extensive collection. It was easier than risking having to explain to the curious why a Jedi escorted someone who appeared to be an average citizen of Naboo, or worse, being recognized by someone from the media.

There were only so many Jedi mind tricks I could perform.

****

The spaceport was a teeming mass of loud voices, warm bodies and hotter tempers. Civilians, mechanics, spacers, droids, traders; all hustled from one area to another with a purposeful air. Docking authority officers strode this way and that with datapads in hand and frowns on their faces, mentally counting the fees owed by any one particular ship. Humanoids and an amalgamation of species, all shapes and sizes melted together into a blur of vivid colors and an even more potent smell. The discordant jangle of alien languages was overwhelming. The resulting dull roar intermittently overridden by the sound of engines warming up for departure and high pitched whines fizzling to nothing as someone’s journey came to an end.

Shouts filled the air, some friendly, some in anger. Women scolded children running to and fro. Vendors argued with ground crews who jostled precious cargos too roughly for their tastes. Here and there a pair of bored looking security guaratroatrolled the fringes, arms hanging loosely at their sides, paying more attention to each others comments than their surroundings. I shook my head in disgust at their lax measures.

A movement in a recessed door caught my attention and I took an automatic step closer to Padmé, my Jedi senses on alert immediately. Through eyes narrowed in caution, I acknowledged the worst element to inhabit spaceports galaxy wide. Hand on the hilt of my lightsaber, I watched the disreputable looking characters flitting about, receding when they sensed any threat of detection only to reappear in another inconspicuous place moments later. Silhouette’s with hard, dead eyes glittered from the dark halls and murky recessed doorways, constantly on watch from the shadows for any opportunity to take advantage of someone’s carelessness, someone’s weakness.

Naboo’s facility was cleaner and better maintained when compared to most ports of similar size and activity. But even in paradise you could never entirely get away from the basic criminal element. What lowlife could resist a place where all too often the pickings were made laughably easy by distracted travelers and complacent guards?

Two guards passed nearby engrossed in discussing their previous night on the town, making no pretense at doing their job. It was obvious the security details were still operating under the parameters set during peaceful times. From my limited observations, I suspected they were ill-prepared for the inevitable rise in crime the war would bring. Their world was in for a rude awakening. An increase in illegal activities was a truth that all worlds were facing now that the Separatists had succeeded in driving the Republic into war, especially with all the evacuee ships flooding the space lanes of any planet willing to take them in. Helpless and disoriented people drew the ruthless and unsavory like mynocks to power cables.

Thanks to the actions of Count Dooku and his cohorts, the normal efficiency of Theed’s spaceport was being overwhelmed. The last scheduled refugee vessel of the day had landed several hours earlier and was still in the process of belching out the last of its passengers to face their new lives on Naboo or to travel ever onwards in search of a home free of the unrest. I eyed the lumbering ship critically and decided that its passengers had been lucky to make it as far as they had considering its obvious state of disrepair. I’d never seen a sadder excuse for a spacecraft in my entire life – and in my travels I’d had cause to visit some of the poorest and least advanced civilizations within the Outer Rim.

Wading through the sea of muddled bodies was like swimming upstream against a strong current. Our process was slowed even more when Threepio insisted on apologizing to everyone he bumped into. By the time I’d safely navigated all three of us through the worst of the throng, I felt as if I’d run the notorious Jedi circuit – twice.

We approached our first destination without a word exchanged; my heart growing heavier and my gait slower with every step. Anxiously, I scanned the departure screens, dreading what I would find. A pent up breath blew past my lips and a trickle of relief soothed my aching head. The public transport ship, the one I was booked on, had arrived late and its departure was being delayed by almost an hour. A silent prayer of gratitude to the local gods chanted in my head. The tension that’d been building in every muscle of my body since leaving the villa retreated slightly. I had a reprieve, not much, but it was better than nothing.

There was no exchange of relieved looks, no wistful smiles. Instead, once Padmé had finished absorbing the same information as I, she spun purposefully on her heels and began to weave her way through the groups who’d gathered around us to find their own departure or arrival times. The only sign she gave of being in my company was a quick ‘over here’ before she headed across the plaza.

Frustration lanced through me. Her continued coldness was eating away at my insides in stinging nips. My mouth thinned in displeasure. I was getting the distinct impression I was being ignored and I was growing increasingly perturbed at being treated like an inconvenience.

With Threepio and me in tow, Padmé directed us across the way to an unnoticed courtyard. The pleasant and spacious area was yet another reminder of how gracious life on Naboo was when compared to other planets. There were no enclosed waiting areas, dirty, unkempt and disheartening to the weary traveler. Everything was well-ordered and comfortable, and I marveled afresh.

The courtyard, located not far from the departure section was relatively deserted considering the madhouse that lay not more than fifteen meters away. But most of the straggling crowd was from the refugee ship and they were being herded to an area set aside for the express purpose of processing them for housing and aid. It wouldn’t be long before the spaceport settled back into its lazy late afternoon routine and things returned to something resembling normalcy. A brief respite before it would likely start all over again in the morning.

Gravel crunched pleasantly beneath our feet as we walked to a carved stone bench placed invitingly beneath the shaded boughs of a thick leafy tree. But Padmé made no move to sit, instead preferring to remain standing to quietly converse with Threepio as if I didn’t exist. I frowned and collapsed onto the bench in a sprawl that would’ve drawn a disapproving grimace from my Master had he been present. A rebellious scowl broke at that thought and I mutinously slumped down into an even less seemly position. A brief sense of satisfaction flared as I imagined Obi Wan glaring down at me with his body language shouting his disappointment at being foisted with such an unruly Padawan because of one man’s dying wish.

Threepio and Padmé moved a few meters away as she explained some arcane point of Nubian architecture, her hands making several sweeping gestures towards the rounded tops of the buildings and the carved friezes that ringed the upper level of the courtyard mezzanine. The droid listened in uncharacteristic silence, probably just thrilled someone was talking to him instead of scolding him, I thought dryly. Thank gods Artoo was accompanying the mountain of Padmé’s cases back to her parents house. I didn’t think I could handle any more of their childish arguments.

A tired sigh slipped from me and I tilted my head back to rest against the hard back of the bench. I stared up at the blue sky, so different from the weather regulated environment of Coruscant, and then let my eyelids fall shut.

The stone bench was surprisingly comfortable and a sudden wave of exhaustion swept over me, my body instantly taking advantage of my inactivity to remind me I hadn’t slept much the night before. The blame for which couldn’t be laid entirely at my wife’s door, I considered with an inner smile that faded immediately under the influence of my black mood.

The tinkling sound of the courtyard fountain reached my ears over the hum of conversation from the mixed variety of beings passing by. It should’ve had a calming effect but it didn’t. Once more, time had moved too fast. There was so much left to say, so many things I couldn’t get out. It was as if every word ran for the exit at once, jamming together, damming my impassioned thoughts and feelings into a mishmash of hopelessly tangled syllables and sounds.

In a muggy haze of sleep deprivation and a deep rooted sense of longing I knew would be my constant companion until we could be together again, the events of the past two months flashed through my mind. In every single one, the image of Padmé figured prominently over everything and everyone else. Vty bty brown eyes - silken skin and hair - the lips that curved into a welcoming smile.

‘Padmé’, my heart sang with every beat.

The long, cold, lonelyhts hts stretched out ahead of me in an endless vacuum. What if something happened to her while I was gone? Dooku was still out there, as was Nute Gunray and his insane personal vendetta. Captain Typho was good but he’d failed once already. Only the presence of my Master and I had averted the disaster of the kouhuns. If Padmé had had to rely upon him alone that night, she would’ve been dead. I shuddered anew at that haunting thought.

Another unpreventable wave of sleep washed over me. The sounds of spaceport activity slowly faded and I spiraled down to a place I did not want to be.

Fragments of a nightmare from the early hours of the morning came to life, whirling in my head like poisoned darts. The chill of stark terror reached out, enveloping me again in its sick, putrid embrace. I couldn’t remember the specifics. There were no particular places or settings to recall. It didn’t play out like a bizarre holovid as did most dreams or visions. It was different in a way that froze my blood and wrung a cold sweat from my brow.

Some part of me was aware of where I was. I could hear Padmé speaking softly to Threepio just a few meters away; could feel the breeze on my face as it rustled through the leaves above me, could feel the solid stone supporting my frame. But then all sense of reality faded and I fell back into the horrifying world that had tormented me from the moment I’d finally managed to fall asleep beside her.

The taste of darkness swirling in my mouth. A gloomy, thick fog through which I could see nothing. But I could hear and I could feel.

Crying somewhere in the distance - a keening wail of overwhelming pain tortured the air. The compulsion to seek out the source tugged violently at my gut but no matter which direction I turned lwaylways sounded as if it were coming from behind me.

Too late, a venomous voice hissed, the past is past and you cannot go back and change it.

{Too late . . . too late . . . too late}

I could feel. And gods, I didn’t want to – didn’t want to feel the immeasurable loss, the loneliness, the ice cold terror clawing at my insides, the excruciating pain pummeling me without end.

I couldn’t find . . . something. I didn’t know what it was but the need to find it panicked me so much my entire body shook in fear. What was it? Where was it? I couldn’t breathe through the choking mist. Sinking . . . sinking into a black hole with a profound sense of . . . relief? Pain lessening. Panic fading. Then nothing - nothing but anger and hate working to dull my senses. Gratitude flooding me. Nothing left to feel – nothing left to mourn – just a wonderful deadening of the hurt.

Completely dead inside - numb.

{Jedi don’t have nightmares}

With a violent mental wrench, I pulled myself back from the abyss. My eyes flew open to find that nothing had changed except for my labored breathing and the cold sweat that bathed my body. Rough stone scraped my palm from where I’d clung to the bench for support. A sickening whirl of vertigo struck me hard.

Oh, gods . . . oh, gods . . . oh, gods.

Deep, even breaths helped somewhat to cleanse my mind and gradually my sense of time and place crept back into my awareness. But the lingering effects of my remembered nightmare refused to be banished completely. It left me even more restless and desperate than I’d been before. Padmé’s dulcet tones drew my fierce attention and I grabbed onto her familiar voice like a drowning swimmer to a lifeline.

She stood by the fountain, still talking to Threepio, while the droid cocked his head slightly to the side, listening with rapt attention. My needy gaze roamed her slender frame voraciously.

The blood was pounding so loudly in my head I couldn’t make out any other sounds but her quiet words. Only one thought was on my mind. One thought that repeated itself over and over a in in my h Wh When would we see each other again? When? How long? Around and around the question whirled, begging for an answer that wouldn’t come. It was too much. I’d lost my mother forever and now I was being forced to leave behind my wife with no certainty of when I would see her again.

My body was shaking so badly I thought I might come apart. wasnwasn’t Padmé affected by this unbearable sense of loss and heartache? How could she remain so calm? Resentment ripped through me, supplanting common sense and decency.

Tension, nervous and edgy, wended its way through every nerve ending. All the insecurities and fears bubbled back up to the surface. After more than two months of being by Padmé’s side, now I would be alone again. I’d thought I could handle it but suddenly I wasn’t sure I could make myself get on the ship. Pain knifed through my heart, my gut, my head. She was right in front of me and yet she was a million light years away. Why wasn’t she torn up from the inside out as I was?

I shot to my feet at the same time Padmé glanced in my direction. She took in my tensed body in a single look and immediately stiffened, turning quickly to scan the area for trouble with an expert eye. It only took her a few seconds to take in our surroundings and when she couldn’t find what had disturbed me, she turned back to the droid and, with a staying gesture, abandoned her place at Threepio’s side and started to bridge the short distance between us.

The air around me fairly sizzled with some undefined but vibrant energy. The power of my need ran beneath my skin, through my veins, a surfeit of obsessive hunger that burned through every line of my body. Everything, every tumultuous emotion reflected in my eyes. Padmé’s step faltered and she came to a dead stop just outside my range of reach. I hated when she did that, when she felt she had to be cautious around me.

“What is it? What is wrong?” Padmé asked in a tone of voice that belied the need for her question.

At the sound of her voice, cool and detached, I practically flinched. I was wound as tightly as a string on a Mandalorian violin. If one more thing happened I was sure the pressure would prove too great and I would snap in two. As if on cue, the first pre-boarding address for my ship echoed off the walls of the courtyard. My hands balled into fists. Already?!

No!

Padmé’s eyes widened with a look of pained regret but just as quickly that expression was wiped away to be replaced with her senator’s mask. Her head dipped down for a quick moment and then she was looking back up, her eyes sliding past mine to stare just over my shoulder.

Sith! At any moment, she was going to bid me a polite farewell as if I were a visiting dignitary or a stranger with whom her job required her to be the gracious government envoy.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend I’m not here!” My voice cut so sharply it was a wonder she couldn’t feel the sting of it on her skin.

“Anakin…” She began in that unintentional condescending tone which irritated me to no end. It never failed to have the exact opposite effect for which it was intended. I wasn’t one of her sister’s children to be placated with a few kind words. I would’ve thought she’d have picked up on that after all our time together.

Padmé remained in place, playing nervously with the delicate chain bracelet encircling one slender wrist, but otherwise seemed calm and collected, unnaturally so.

“You’re going into politician mode and I haven’t even left yet.” I said, biting off each word with a snap. Unconsciously, I widened my stance and folded my arms across my chest, continuing to fix my sullen glare on her.

Pained brown eyes finally flickered to life and they shi to to meet my annoyed stare. In a matter of moments she went from dignified senator to a girl who was clearly fighting to hold in her hurt as if her life depended on it. Padmé’s control slipped another notch. I watched dispassionately as her shoulders slumped and a visible tremor shook her hands. She inhaled harshly, the breath catching in her throat before coming back out as a shaky sigh. Indecision warred in her expressive eyes and the tense lines of her shoulders.

“What…what do you want me to do, Anakin? What do you want me to say? Nothing is going to make this any easier. One of us has to remain rational.” The words burst forth in a torrent of emotion. Her tone wavered a bit but even as I watched, Padmé started to drag her shields back into place.

It was like that night in front of the fireplace all over again. My heart was on my sleeve, my soul was laid bare and she wanted to remain ‘rational’? What would happen when I left? Would she push all thoughts of me aside and go about her business as if nothing had happened the moment my feet left the soil? Would she stick me in that convenient compartment labeled ‘non-essential’? A seething anger at Padmé, at the circumstances of our lives rose up inside of me. It wasn’t fair!

”Don’t use that word with me!” I snarled.

A flash of movement over her shoulder drew my glance to Threepio, still standing patiently where he’d been told to remain. He was also avidly listening to our exchange. When he saw that he’d drawn my notice a soft ‘oh’ of dismay came from him and then he hastily turned back as if to consider the statue comprising the centerpiece of the fountain. Apparently the droid’s discretion program had finally kicked in.

My eyes returned to a different Padmé. In that split second of inattention, she’d managed to reassemble some control and hide all betraying signs of her emotions. I didn’t need to see the rest of her face still hidden by the silk scarf to know how she would appear to any observers.

Polite.

Aloof.

Superior.

Padmé should have been the Jedi, not I. Emotions were like precious keepsakes to her; kept in the safety of neat boxes, taken out and handled carefully and always held out of the reach of others lest they be broken. She and Obi Wan were two of a kind. While I, on the other hand, was a volatile mix of intense feelings and oowerowering sensations. I let my emotions wash over me and guide me, trusting them instinctively to lead me forward in life. The Living Force – not that stagnant and cold detachment they preached non-stop at the Temple.

When? How long? My mind droned again, nudging me back to the matter at hand. The questions whispered tauntingly in my ears, rising up to bait me persistently. The desolate ache in my gut was growing with every breath I took. The all consuming hunger for her continued its rise upwards, loudly demanding to be appeased.

Angrily, I absorbed that air of detachment she wore so well. I could hear it in her voice, and see it in the lines of her body and in the depths of her eyes. If she thought it was going to be a goodbye like that; like protector and senator, like childhood friends, she was in for a shock. This was going to be a goodbye between husband and wife; this was going to be a goodbye between me and Padmé.

“You don’t think I feel the same as you? That this isn’t killing me? She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. Desolation singed every word but I was past the point of noticing. “Gods, this is destroying me and the only way I can remain on my feet is to…”

“Forget? Shove the memories away?” I interjected, pain and anger surging upwards, spurring me on.

“Yes, damn you!” Padmé choked out her reply in a furious whisper, ever conscious of prying ears. “Is that what you want to hear, Anakin, is it?”

She couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t let her!

I lunged forward in a blur of motion and snatched up her hand before she even registered I’d moved. Jerking her abruptly forward, she stumbled into me and had to grab onto my arm to right herself. The flat of my hand pressed against her lower back to keep her from pulling away.

It was a moment suspended in time. We stood just centimeters apart, both of us refusing to back down or break the searing eye contact. The combined heat and coiled tension of our bodies triggered a primitive rush of desire and I stiffened against the material of my pants. A surge of possessive love-lust pervaded me, clawing my insides, demanding action.

My hold on her hand and at her back tightened. I’d thought of her every day since we’d said goodbye that long ago afternoon on Naboo. I’d dreamed of her. I’d obsessed over her. And once I reached the age where I understood exactly what those feelings meant, I had wanted her with an immeasurable, unbearable longing that had preyed on my peace of mind. I’d had so many years of torture while Padmé blithely went about her well ordered and pleasant life – forgetting all about the slave boy she’d befriended.

I realized with a sudden start that I was jealous of that blissful ignorance she’d had the good fortune to live under all that time. Something dark and heavy shifted in my head.

“I’ll tell you what I want, milady. I want to know not an hour goes by without a thought of me going through your head. I want to know you only feel half alive without me.” I rasped, each word slashing at my insides, each word accompanied by a tug at the hand I held hostage. “I want you to feel the same desolation and hunger I’ve suffered through these past ten years.”

Padmé stared up at me, a haunted expression shadowing her eyes. Our faces were so close I could see the curving, bitter smile twisting her lips through the flimsy covering of her veil.

“You have already made sure of that, haven’t you?” She asked softly, her eyes glittering back like shards of jagged glass. It was a look that reached down deep to twist my insides painfully.

It was the closest she ever came to accusing me of unscrupulously using my abilities to manipulate her. A frisson of shame tore along the edges of my mind before I remembered why I had done it. Callously, I crushed the voice of my conscience, brushing it away like an obnoxious, buzzing bantha fly. Instead I considered every trick I’d used to woo and seduce her and I knew I wasn’t sorry for any of them. A slow arrogant smile, insolent and smug, spread across my face.

“Have I?” My tone was cool and steady. Padmé might suspect but she would never reallyw fow for sure. Suspicion was nothing without proof. A slight shiver snaked down her spine and my eyes lit with satisfaction. There it was again, the hint of fear and reluctant arousal I found so invigorating.

Everything else, the spaceport, the people, the mundane sounds of activity, all faded into the background leaving the two of us behind in a tension riddled cocoon. Our eyes remained locked in a battle neither of us wanted to lose but in which neither of us could hope to win.

The air was suddenly rent with a booming mechanical voice announcing the first official boarding call for the ship to Coruscant. Instantly our silent bubble burst and the familiar sights and noises filtered back in, pulling us back at breakneck speed from out battle of wills.

A riot of desperation flooded my soul. There was no part of my body that didn’t ache, no part of my mind that wasn’t racing from the panic. The fates were conspiring against me, against us. It was too soon! Fury at the circumstances pulling us apart pounded in chest, making my decision for me.

With a barked order at Threepio to stay put and watch my case, I propelled an unresisting Padmé across the courtyard towards a tiny office tucked in the shadows. I’d spied it earlier when I’d done a quick surveillance and with time rapidly running out I decided it would have to do.

This was going to be a goodbye worthy of the passion we shared.

The door was wide open, allowing the cool breeze to filter in and freshen the inside of the windowless and cramped room. It appeared to be a storage area for spare parts but judging by the thick layer of dust over almost every surface, I doubted it saw much activity. A waist high work bench stretched the length of one wall and was strewn with every conceivable bit of machinery imaginable. In the only available space left someone had managed to cram in a small desk and chair. Occupying thatt wat was a gray haired man who I estimated to be one year older than Yoda and he was decidedly napping on the job.

It wasn’t a deep sleep however, for no sooner had we stepped over the threshold than he was pulling himself up from his reclining position and making a valiant attempt at stifling his yawn. Watery blue eyes surrounded by a web of wrinkles and topped by bushy eyebrows blinked at us in disbelief. From his behavior I doubted anyone besides himself had been in that place in years.

“You should take a walk - get some fresh air and sunshine.” I suggested.

The old man blinked again.

“Excuse me . . . I need some air and sunshine.” He muttered in a daze to himself and then stumbled to his feet and shambled past us out the door.

Padmé, still amazed at the power of a Jedi mind trick, stared after the wizened worker with her mouth agape. She was still watching him shuffle away when the door slid shut and the lock engaged with a quick beep.

Before the sound had time to fade in that tiny, cluttered space, I whirled her around and roughly pushed her up against the door. Hair pins flew left and right, scattering on the grubby floor as I whipped the veil from her face. My mouth crashed over hers, all the pain and longing reflecting in the way I brutally savaged her. I demanded entry, plunging my tongue into her warm recesses with a violence born of knowing we would be parted for who knew how long. It was an angry kiss that Padmé returned with equal fervor, with equal passion. Tongues and teeth clashed, bruising pressure pushed past any pleasure and bordered on pain. A sob was torn from her and I felt a flash of desolation sing through her that was so raw my own heart ached in response. I ripped my mouth from hers, panting harshly.

“My wife, Padmé . . . not senator, not daughter . . . you’re mine first, the others follow.” I said fiercely, my eyes bla dow down into hers as she fought for her breath. I gripped her about the waist and lifted her up, swinging her around at a dizzying speed to come to rest none too gently on the work bench. Dust rose up in clouds as bits and pieces of machinery were shoved ruthlessly from their longstanding homes.

My hands shook with the intensity of emotion sluicing through me but I still managed to yank the skirt of her dress up, swiftly pushing the material to bunch around her waist. Silk clegs egs parted willingly, drawing me closer, luring me in.

“You won’t pretend…you won’t cast me aside…you belong to me!” I pulled her forward with a sudden jerk, blatantly grinding my arousal against her mound. The throbbing intensified when Padmé gave a strangled cry of surrender, reaching down between our bodies and tearing my shirt from inside my waistband.

To the tune of our increasingly irregular breathing, two small hands fumbled with the fastenings of my pants. Nimbly they worked to remove the inconvenient impediment blocking us from the intimate touch we both craved. One final tug and my hardened erection sprung free to rub eagerly against her inner thigh. Metal fingers fisted roughly in her long hair, drawing her face forcibly closer. The move elicited a moaning gasp from Padmé and her brown eyes darkened with ever increasing arousal.

My gaze bore into hers, piercing through her hastily reassembled defenses as easily as a vibroblade through butter. I wanted to be sure she heard every word of what I had to say. Hungry despair and anger churned within me, waking the animal inside.

“When you’re in your office, senator…I want you to remember this.” My voice hissed like cold water on hot metal.

I wrenched the damp silken material violently to one side and drove myself inside her in one hard thrust. The force of entry pulled an unintelligible cry from Padmé that echoed loudly in the tiny room. Her fingers scrambled wildly at the dirty work surface before finally managing to grab the edge of the counter to brace her body for each rough stroke. A guttural groan vibrated in my chest. I needed her like water and air but not just on a physical level. I wanted to be imprinted on her very soul.

“Think of this . . . tu ne’lle kaah . . . ” I continued. “Me . . . hard inside - y - your thighs wet with your excitement.”

Sweat pricked my scalp and rolled down to soak the collar of my shirt. Moisture beaded on the flesh visible above Padmé’s bodice, adding a shimmer to her translucent skin. With the door closed the room was practically airless. Our staggered breaths only added to the humid atmosphere. Another boarding call trilled over the announcement system. Frantic urgency beat a pounding measure in my head. ‘Mine’, every thrust proclaimed.

“When you’re lying in your bed, remember what I did to you, all the ways I made you scream . . . and beg.” I purred in a voice saturated the temptation of sin.

Lust hung in the air, heavy and moist. It surrounded us in a haze of mindless passion; a whirling vortex that sucked us into a surreal world where the only thing tangible was the mating of our bodies and the pulsing rhythm we moved to. The heat we were creating was almost too intense. It bordered on depraved and I devoured it with greedy hands and lips. I wanted more, I always wanted more.

“Touch yourself and think of me.” I breathed in a voice husky with insinuation.

Something hot sparked in those fathomless eyes at my provocative words; an answering call to my carnal command. My shaft swelled and thickein rin response and I plunged into her sweet flesh with enough force to bruise. Thereasrease in the slickness soaking me told its own story. Bruises or not, we were both too lost to care. If I needed any further proof it was in the way every deep thrust was welcomed by the eager lifting of Padmé’s hips and her gasping whimpers.

I claimed her mouth with an animalistic groan, swallowing her desperate cries, drowning in her lips. I swept my toninsiinside to taste her, to stamp the memory of that savage encounter on her conscience. When I had drunk my fill, I slid my mouth away, dragging my tongue along the curve of her jaw, nuzzling against her soft skin damp with the sweat of our passionate exertions.

Our pace was furious and swift, the impact of our bodies bordering on the edge of pain. I drove into her relentlessly, giving her no quarter, no respite from the exquisite sensations the movement of our bodies created. With every snap of my hips, Padmé’s breath exploded and her low mewling cries caressed my ears. Her tight walls began to contract and I grunted my approval as fire licked under my skin.

Panted words, disjointed and barely comprehensible rushed past my ears. My name sounded, jumbling together with words of love and despair, sorrow and loss. The need to make a mark, to put my brand on her was overpowering and I obeyed the voice in my head without hesitation, without question. Time was running out and I wanted to feel her shatter in my arms one last time.

Unbelievably she groaned out a request that nearly liquefied me on the spot.

“Harder.” She hissed fiercely, eyes boring into mine.

A shuddering, harsh gush of air escaped me at her unexpected direction. Every brain cell imploded at once. I changed the angle of my thrusts with a savage grunt; making them deeper, tighter, shorter. Every hard stroke aiming to hit that one little spot I’d first shown her so many weeks ago.

Whispering words she couldn’t understand, I made my way down with deliberate intent to where her pulse beat madly just beneath the surface of her fragile skin. My hand tugged at her rich, brown curls, drawing her head back to expose the targeted area to my ravenous mouth.

Padmé’s internal walls began to spasm, squeezing me in anticipation and my body hummed with the instinct to ry sey sey seed within her. I lashed my tongue over the tiny flutter at the base of her neck, sucking in the tender flesh in tandem with the cadence of my hips. One hand released its death grip on the edge of the table, coming up to clasp the back of my head, urging me closer. Around my waist I could feel the shifting strain of her muscles as her thighs tightened their hold and her heels dug into backside. Need, raw and primal thrummed restlessly in the air.

“Anakin . . . ple. . . . . please.” The words came out on a jagged breath, pleading for the pleasure-pain; begging for culmination.

Her arousing words, whispered in that throaty, husky tone almost drowned out the third boarding call.

We were both balanced precariously on the edge; all it took was a single act to send us over. I moaned low in my throat, inhaling the scent of her warm, wet skin, the perfume of her clean hair, letting it imprint in my memory a final time. I whispered her name with a reverence reserved for her alone and then sank my teeth over the fading bite marks I’d inflicted the night she’d agreed to marry me.

Padmé’s entire body bowed and a scream was torn from her as I used my mouth like a weapon to shove her over the edge. The primal sound of her rapture pulled me down with her and we fell as one, coming together in a kaleidoscope of colors and a rush of hot, slick desire. My mouth remained latched to her neck, my arms holding her tight as her body writhed against mine. I licked greedily at the newly broken skin, suckling the abraded flesh and wringing fresh whimpers and pleas to not stop, to never stop.

Not until her violently contracting inner muscles had milked me of everything I had, did I lift my head. An exhausted tremor racked my spent body and I slipped out of her tight sheath, breathing hard and heavy. The realization that time was up, that I had to leave broke through the all toief ief afterglow, stealing what strength remained and my legs suddenly gave way. Padmé slid from her perch at the edge of the work top, her skirt falling back into place of its own accord. She leaned back wearily against the table, her weakened legs refusing to give her their full support. I came down with a painful crack of bone against stone to rest on my knees before her.

Too soon . . . not enough time. Fear trickled down my spine.

Tears, more copious even than the ones I’d shed atooatooine, threatened to roll down my face. I wrapped shaking arms around her waist and bd myd my face against her abdomen. Hard tremors racked my frame while I clung helplessly to her torso under the mind wrenching influence of the powerful forces of sorrow and misery.

I murmured her name over and over, somehow managing to keep my voice from dissolving completely, though it quaked uncontrollably with every word. Comforting hands at the back of my head caressed me, fingers ed ted through my perspiration tangled hair. Lilting words floated down; too soft to understand yet somehow they still served to soothe and lull me.

My throat was raw from the ache of holding back the emotions swamping me. A heavy weight pressed down on my chest, making breathing difficult and causing a buzzing in my ear. Despite my best attempts to stifle them, choking sounds of distress accompanied every jerky exhalation of air that managed to escape from my inefficient lun At At any second I was going to have to get myself off the floor and walk away from the girl I loved more than my own life.

A steady knock rapped at the door followed by Threepio’s hesitant but worried voice. They had called the final boarding. Neither Padmé nor I acknowledged the information and the room fell back into a relative silence punctuated by still labored breathing.

I twisted my head to the side, sighing as Padmé’s fingers lingered at my temple before threading back through my hair once more. I took in the dirty, disordered room in an absent daze and realized it reminded me a little of Watto’s shop and of days and people long gone.

It reminded me of my first sighting of Padmé.

I closed my eyes and pictured in my mind’s eye the fourteen year old girl who, unbeknownst to me, had carried the fate of her world on her sshoushoulders.

A tow headed boy watching from his vantage point atop a counter, a brown haired girl with chocolate eyes standing uncertainly in the midst of a pathetic collection of broken down machinery and junk. The ever present smell of scorching sand skimming over the fumes of oil and grime. A sudden thought, a flash of the future.

“I’m going to marry you.” I whispered those words from the past dreamily.

Padmé’s hands stilled in my hair, pressing me closer, cradling me with the warmth and scent of her body.

“And you did.” She said in a low, far away voice.

That her words held just the barest hint of regret didn’t bother me at all.