Wicked Game

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“The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.
Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the
things it has forbidden itself.”

Oscar Wilde


“If you are suffering as much as I am, please tell me!”

If he only knew.

My peace of mind, my mental well being, was being drained from me with all the strength of a raging water spout. The sensation my life was careening out of control, prevalent from the first moment Anakin had looked at me like a man starved, had only increased since arriving at the lake retreat. Far from being put off by my abrupt withdrawal from the ill-advised kiss we had shared that first day, Anakin had merely taken a step back and waited for the next opportune moment. It was like being stalked by a sleek, untamed animal of prey.

Every second of every day that followed meant struggling to ignore his heated glances, heavy with unspoken promises and thick with a type of obsessive desire that kept me tossing and turning at night. And when I thought it could not possibly get any worse, the events of the picnic unfolded like a bad dream. I turned my face into my pillow as if I could somehow smother the memory of how badly my body had betrayed me.

Heat suffused my face as my traitorous mind insisted on dragging me back in time. It had started as an innocent tumble down an incline; a swift kiss given as payment for release and then my world had turned upside down. The sweetly boyish and clumsy Anakin vanished and in his place was a man well versed in the art of seduction. At first I had been too stunned to try and muster my defenses, the change in him too sudden for me to comprehend. By the time I had gotten over my initial shock, it had been too late. My body had succumbed to his touch, to his lips, to the passion he had drawn from me far too easily.

"I think I rather like to hear you beg, milady.

I groaned out loud. Gods, I could still feel the heavy weight of his body pressing me down into the sweet smelling grass. I could feel the heat from his body permeating my skin as if he were even now moving over me. It had been days ago and still I imagined I could smell his scent on my skin, taste the masculine flavor of him in my mouth.

What was wrong with me? Why did it have to be Anakin who stormed my defenses so successfully?

With monumental effort, I forced away the rest of those disturbing memories. To dwell on them was dangerous and far too tempting to admit. A swift rise of almost claustrophobic panic set in and I kicked out at the clinging sheets frantically. Free at last, I scrambled to a sitting position atop the tangled bed linens and hugged my knees close to my chest. This had to stop, I thought with an uncharacteristic shiver of fear.

I stared pensively out through the mullioned panes imagining the wind whipping at the flowering vines covering the balcony. Idly, I wondered if there would be any blooms left once the system had moved on. Should the storm blow over as predicted, in another four hours the sun would rise to spread its golden rays on the rolling green hills and the lapping waters of the lake. Another day would begin. Another day of tension and the sense that something volatile was simmering just beneath the surface of the polite platitudes Anakin and I had fallen into after the awkward ending to our picnic. It would only be worse now that I had refused him outright.

Last night – had it been only a few hours earlier? - I had smashed Anakin’s hopes with a noticeable lack of empathy. Bits and pieces of that uncomfortable scene flew at me from the secret recesses where I had tried to lock them up. I had hurt him. Did he even realize how hard it had been for me to take away his dream?

Anakin.

Flickering fire light cast its glowing reflection in cerulean blue eyes. My lungs constricted in the tight bodice of a gown I should have known better than to wear. Desire, hot and heavy, rolling off of the boy-man in front of me in such concentrated waves I felt them as if they were a tangible entity.

Never in my life had I seen eyes so filled with painful desperation, so hungry for acceptance and love. Anakin’s fierce gaze had been scorching hot, blazing away with far too many emotions to name. Truth be told, I was afraid to name them. To name them would make them real and to allow that to happen would be a mistake. But it had happened anyway. In the reflection of those begging eyes I saw everything he felt, everything he dreamed. He made no effort to hold anything back and the intensity, the overwhelming feeling that I was responsible for it all froze me to the spot. An odd combination of dread and excitement trickled along my spine even now, hours later. Anakin needed me. He wanted me so much he had been shaking with it.

It was all for me.

Me.

I was so far out of my depth my feet could not reach the bottom. By my own choice I had no experience with men and desire. When I had told Anakin I had more important things to do than fall in love, I had meant it . . . on some level. It was something I had told myself countless times in the past and it had always worked - until now. My usual defenses, so often relied upon to keep me safe from the dangerous quicksand of love and relationships, were failing me at an alarming rate. Constantly, I found myself doing one thing and saying another - like wearing that dress.

Unconsciously my eyes strayed from the rain streaked panes of glass to the chair where the instrument of a disaster waiting to happen lay in a discarded heap. My only saving grace was that I had not picked it out; that, at least, could be laid at the door of the maid who had set it out for me while I had been in the fresher. Still, I could have chosen another and I had not. It was ridiculous to blame a dress for what had transpired but I could not shake the feeling that I had led him on somehow by giving into my vanity.

Perhaps I could also blame my slip of tongue on the lack of oxygen caused by the tight corset, I thought with a humorless snort.

“If you follow your thoughts through to conclusion, they will take us to a place we cannot go . . . regardless of the way we feel for each other.” The damning admittance had tumbled from my lips before I could stop it.

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, guilty unease washing over me. With all my heart I wished I had never uttered those words which had unintentionally given him a glimmer of hope. Why had I added that last part? What had I been thinking? But that was the problem, I had not been thinking. I had been too busy trying to suppress the feelings his heartfelt speech, so sweet and honest, had so unexpectedly inspired. In my hurry to distance myself from my unacceptable emotions, I forgot this was the same Anakin who had very nearly done what no man had before. I forgot that he was not as innocent as he often pretended to be when we were in the company of others.

"I will not give in to this."

My declaration, so adamant and final sounding then, now echoed in my head over and over in a mocking litany. It had been too little, too late. Useless words said in a futile attempt to stave off the zealousness of an infatuated young man. The effort had been woefully inadequate and my pitiful attempt had taunted me as I watched him walk away, the ease with which he had accepted my refusal vaguely disturbing. Later my misspoken words had accompanied every toss and turn of my restless body as I tried to sleep. My agitated movements had twisted the sheets around me until they were as confining as any funeral shroud. It was an unsettling analogy I instantly shied away from but the chill remained.

Anakin.

Hot blue eyes pierced the thin veil of darkness cloaking my closed eyelids. The memory of his pain filled gaze illuminated in the shifting firelight haunted me. With every flash of remembrance my mind insisted on replaying, I cringed inwardly. Yet I knew I was in the right. The very idea there could be anything between us, a Jedi and a senator, was not only incomprehensible but sheer lunacy.

Wasn’t it?

The tiny tremors coursing through me grew stronger as I fought to still my churning thoughts and calm my even more fractured emotions. Anakin was an infatuated boy with stars in his eyes. It was nothing more than that. He would get over it and life would return to normal. More importantly, I would be able to forget and leave it all behind me.

This type of situation played out across the galaxy every day like some tired cliché, a younger man imagining himself in love with an older woman; a crush mistaken for a deeper, truer emotion. And what of me? No one could deny Anakin was a handsome young man, a dashing figure, and the fact that he wore his heart on the sleeve of his Jedi robe was flattering. But I did not think of him as anything more than a friend, I told myself firmly. That was all.

Liar!

He's just an infatuated boy, I insisted stubbornly to that mocking inner voice. But my mind scoffed at my pathetic attempt at trying to turn Anakin back into the small child with whom I had once regarded with such innocent affection. I had never been one to suffer fools gladly and yet there I was trying to play make believe.

“He’s just a boy.” I had said to Sola.

However, ‘boy’ was hardly a word I could use to accurately describe the Anakin who had come back into my life less than a month ago. There could be no mistaking that he was as far from that charmingly sweet ten year old I had once known as I was from the trusting girl who believed the senate would come to Naboo’s aid in the face of the Trade Federation’s illegal blockade. The picnic more than anything else had proved just how much Anakin had changed beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"I will not give in to this."

Yet at the first panicked shout from the throes of his nightmare, I had run to his room without a second thought. I had not even stopped to don my robe. My only concern was reaching Anakin, comforting Anakin, soothing his nightmare away.

Stupid, Padmé, stupid! I did not want to consider what Anakin’s reaction would have been to find me in his room in the middle of the night wearing only my nightgown; especially after my little speech about responsibility and duty, when I had taken his dream and inadvertently crushed it beneath the heel of my shoe.

The still glowing fire beckoned me from my cold perch; drawing me from my bed where I doubted I would see any more sleep that night. Despite the fact it was early summer, my hands were like ice and I slid off the high mattress, grabbing my robe as I moved to stoke the orange-red embers to help ward off the growing chill.

Outside the summer storm was continuing to grow in intensity and strength. The doors to the balcony shook on their ancient hinges, the loud noise in the otherwise quiet room making me fidget nervously. A sharp crack of thunder rumbled from the sky, the vibrations shaking the solid stone floor beneath my feet. An explosive flash flared, lighting the room as brightly as if it were the middle of the day. The time between the thunder and lightning was shortening, a clear sign that the tempest was creeping ever closer.

I had always loved storms. Something inside me responded to the savageness of the rain lashed trees blowing in the wind; the leaden gray skies rent by brilliant charges of electric zigzags; and the accompanying loud rumbles of thunder. The unpredictability and wildness spoke to a part of me I normally kept buried; the part that was weary of order and rigid protocol – the very stagnation of the bureaucratic quagmire of politics.

But this storm was different. It had come barreling down from the mountains, barging rudely into the night with little warning just like Anakin had come back into my life. The volatile weather and my weariness from keeping on constant guard was exacerbated by the events of the past few weeks. Anakin was wreaking havoc with my habitual poised demeanor and the stress was beginning to show. Little by little the chinks in my hard won defensive armor were growing more numerous, widening into gaping cracks. I did not recognize the girl being revealed as my protection fell away in pieces. It had been years since I had seen her last.

Another earsplitting boom reverberated in the night. I shifted agitatedly from foot to foot, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rising. A shard of lightning struck just across the lake shocking me with its raw intensity. I made a valiant attempt to force my increasing unease down but the deep, steadying breaths did nothing to sooth my jangled nerves.

With each crash of thunder and lightning I found myself holding my breath, the tension in my body rising up a notch with every new strike. Standing immobile was an impossibility. I had to move, had to work off the nervous energy coursing through me and making my limbs tremble and my nails press into the flesh of my palms. I knew if I cared to look I would find perfect crescent indentations marring the skin. Any minute and I might even draw blood.

A groaning sound drew my distracted attention away from the fire and in the direction of the balcony. Drawn forward, I found myself halfway between my bed and the balcony doors, watching in fascination as they rattled and shook under the influence of angry, unseen hands. The clattering noise grew louder, taking precedence over everything else, even the furious onslaught now pounding against the retreat’s thick walls.

My heart thudded heavily in my chest. A tingle of anticipation sang along my nerves, telling me in no uncertain terms that something was about to happen. Another virulent blast shook the doors and then they flew open with a deafening crash. The invading wind whipped at my hair and clothes, bringing with it a frenzied swirl of wet petals and leaves to litter the floor. The damp wind plastered my nightclothes to my body, jarring me from my dazed state. I raced to the doorway, fighting the buffeting gale in a battle to secure the doors against the powerful forces of nature. For once the antiquated doors held no charm and I regretted they were not the convenient mechanical doors we took for granted in the rest of the galaxy. Sometimes beauty and grace were a poor substitute for practical dependability.

After a brief but tiring tussle, I finally managed to slam the twin doors shut. The fierce sounds of the storm abated to a dull roar and I quickly moved to snap first the bottom and then the top lock into place. I rested my forehead against the frame, taking a moment to catch my breath and steady my shaking hands. Maybe I could get some sleep after all, I thought with a tired sigh. I turned away from the wild scene still playing out on the other side of the door just as another jag of lightning streaked across the sky and lit the room. My heart slammed hard against my ribcage and I backed up so quickly the hard metal handles banged painfully into one hip.

Standing not more than four meters away was Anakin, the harsh glare casting the angles and planes of his face in such sharp relief as to make him almost unrecognizable. Just in time my hand managed to stop the scream that instinctively tried to work its way past my lips. Although I doubted it would have been heard by anyone but us, I did not want to find out otherwise – not with a half dressed man lurking in my room at such an hour.

The light from the storm faded, leaving a black silhouette with glittering eyes holding me entranced. We stood there, both as still as the cold marble statues that dotted the retreat’s terraced gardens, for what seemed like an eternity. It was an endless stretch of time spent pinned to the spot by a gaze so fierce I could feel it like the physical touch of his hand.

To my unusually fanciful mind it was as if I had somehow conjured him with just my thoughts. One minute I had been alone and the next I was facing the altogether imposing figure of the last person I wanted to see. At my back the doors shivered against the restraining locks. I reached behind me and grasped the cold slick metal knobs with clammy hands to hide their betraying tremor from the Jedi’s all seeing gaze.

Thunder.

Lightning.

The blood pumped furiously in my veins, my pulse beating a wild rhythm that struck a ragged staccato in my ears. My mouth went as dry as the desert planet Anakin had grown up on and goose bumps rose up on my arms. I had to fight hard to keep my knees from buckling beneath me even as I reminded myself that this was Anakin before me, not some faceless intruder intent on my assassination.

No, but he is intent on another goal that could prove just as devastating. The ugly thought slithered through my mind sending a cold tremor straight through my heart. Oh gods, what should I do? The protocols of politics had prepared me for almost any eventuality but not this.

Tension scraped sharply along my tattered nerves, the razor fine talons digging into the sensitive endings without mercy. Just when I did not think I could possibly bear the charged silence a moment longer, Anakin cut through the thick atmosphere with a rasping voice, soft and deadly in its intent.

“Come here.”