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A cool breeze blew in through Padmé's apartment window, causing her to shiver as it brushed against her bare shoulders. The weather for Coruscant had been rainy recently, and it was just starting to warm up again. Since it was the evening however, the chill lingered.
Holding her arms to her chest in an attempt to warm herself, Padmé stood up from the couch she was sitting on to close the offending cavity.
"Mistress Padmé, there you are!" C-3PO's mechanical voice rang with relief as she turned from the closed window to face him. "I'm afraid I've been negligent in my services to you today. I hope you can forgive me, I've just upgraded my systems and it had taken much longer than I had originally calculated." His well-oiled joints made no sounds as he waddled his way closer to her.
"It's alright 3PO." She smiled weakly. Although she had had to work just that much harder without his assistance, she couldn't help but appreciate the silence she had been granted. Being around senators and other politicians all day every day had worn her down. She felt lonelier than ever, and the only person who could cure her of her melancholia was light-years away, fighting in a war on the front lines.
"Is there anything I can assist you with? Would you like some tea? You look dreadfully tired!"
She held up her hand. "No, 3PO, I'm alright. You can go shut down for the night, I'm sure your systems need the break."
"Are you quite sure? I can—"
"3PO, please," She lost her patience, but only her voice betrayed it. "Please." She repeated, pleading this time.
A pause. "Very well, Mistress." 3PO turned to leave her. Quiet words of worry could be heard from his retreating back. Sometimes she forgot that he wasn't a living being, that he was only programmed to be sympathetic to human emotions. Only Anakin could create a droid so life-like. So human.
Anakin.
She barely registered the feeling of sinking into a chair in her living space. She missed him so much it was almost unbearable. She couldn't officially check up on him, so she had no idea if he was ever safe. She couldn't contact him because they had to keep their marriage a secret. She had to throw herself into her work just to stop thinking about him.
Sometimes, when she would wake up, she could forget that he wasn't there next to her—that he wasn't safe. If she kept her eyes closed, she could imagine that the tangled sheets were his limbs, and that her own breath was his.
At first, she had scolded herself for her weakness and her juvenile tactics at coping. But as the weeks and months creeped by and the bed was still empty, she had allowed herself those small moments of self-indulgence. It was one of the only things that kept her sane.
Since the war had started, she had become addicted to the Holonews as well. It was the only place she could hear news of Anakin besides the occasional mention. It did nothing to alleviate her fears though, and instead, had driven her to countless restless nights filled with worry.
Her eyes slid over to the remote. Turn it on and listen to the stories of seemingly endless battles and end up worrying about Anakin, or leave it off and still worry sick about him? Neither option left much room for sleep.
A noise to her right brought her attention away from the inanimate object and to the window she had just closed. It was open again, and for a second Padmé allowed herself to become irritated for no real reason. She had a fleeting thought that that must be what it's like to be lazy.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Padmé rose from her seat and walked back over to the window. Cold air rushed against her face when she approached it, making her rush to close it. She took a moment to inspect the lock, making sure it wasn't broken or stuck.
She looked up from the lock and out of the window. Lights all over the city planet were on already despite the numerous people settling down for their sleep cycle. Such a busy and troubled planet despite it being untouched by the war.
Well, at least by the fighting.
Movement in the reflection caught her eye. Without a sound, she spun to face the intruder, fumbling to grab something to defend herself with. She stopped dead at the sight before her.
"Anakin!" She gasped, running over to him before she even knew her feet were moving. She crashed into his arms, causing him to take a step back to steady himself while he let out a low chuckle. It couldn't be real; he was on a mission, he couldn't be there. Her mind told her that, but the arms around her told her different.
"I've missed you." He breathed into her hair. Her smile grew wider as he kissed the top of her head.
"I've missed you too." She pulled back just enough to look at his face, moving her hands from his arms to stroke his hair, twirling a lone finger through his braid. His hair had grown longer with the three months that they had been separated; just long enough have it fall onto his forehead. It felt like feathers, and she couldn't help but tug on it a little as he came down to kiss her.
Their lips met a bit clumsily at first, teeth scraping for the barest of moments. His lips were chapped and rough against her own but she couldn't help but think that it was the most wonderful feeling she had felt in months. The best she had felt in months. She stroked a hand up through the back of his hair, earning a moan for her efforts. Their kiss was short lived though, as she reluctantly pulled back, keeping their foreheads touching.
"When did you get back?" She breathed, "You look like you stepped right off the front lines." She couldn't help the concern in her voice as she finally examined his full person. His clothing was a mess: rips, scorch marks, mud, and Force knows what else covered him. He looked like he needed a long hot shower.
He gave her a lopsided grin, but his eyes looked tired. "That's 'cause I did."
She pulled back farther. "What? Are you hurt? Ani, what happened?" She brought her hands back to his arms, then his chest, carefully touching him to check for injury. Thankfully he seemed relatively unscathed.
He gathered her hands in between his larger ones to silence her, feeling his rough calluses on her smooth skin. Bringing her hands up to his mouth as his eyes fluttered closed; he planted soft kisses on her knuckles and fingers. "I'm fine, Angel."
Smiling at the feather-light kisses, she conceded. "Well how long are you here?"
He paused, looking down at her, and his eyes darkened. "Only tonight."
Her heart sank. He would be leaving the next day to go back to the war. They would only get one night together after so long apart. She swallowed the lump in her throat and attempted a teasing smile.
"Your hair is so much longer than the last time I saw it. Don't tell me they're letting up on Padawan regulations." At that, his head fell back and he sighed, scrubbing his eyes with his left hand.
"No," He said, muffled from the hand finishing its track down his face as he looked back at her. "No, I need to get it cut before I go back. Usually I'm able to get it cut out in the field, but…it just didn't happen." His eyes grew cold and far away as he looked off to the side. Padmé wanted to know what he was thinking, but the look was gone a moment after it arrived.
She frowned in concern, but put on a small smile when she brought her hand to his cheek to guide his blue orbs back to her brown ones. "How about I save you the trip, and I just cut your hair?"
"You know how to cut a Padawan hairstyle?" He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
She shrugged. "I've never done it obviously, but it can't be too hard, can it?" She couldn't help but laugh at his apprehensive expression. He gave her a weak scowl for her laughter and she gave him a mock serious face. "I give you my word as a politician; I promise not to mar you hair."
"Your word as a politician? Great, now I really have to worry." She rolled her eyes and smacked him lightly on the arm.
"Then I give you my word as your wife." She corrected, standing on her tip-toes to peck a kiss on his nose. His face cracked into a wide smile at that.
"Where to, m'lady?" He said, still smiling.
"That chair right there is fine." She motioned towards the chair she had been in before she had gotten up to close the window the second time. He looked at her uncertainly, and glanced down at his ruined clothes.
"I don't want to ruin your furniture…" He started, but she dismissed his worries with a wave of her hand.
"I'll get some towels to put down before you sit. We'll need them to clean up the mess afterwards anyway." She said as she walked back to one of her closets to grab a bundle of fresh towels. Bringing them back, she set them on the chair and on the floor beside it. "There," She brushed nonexistent dust off her hands. "Now all I need in a pair of scissors." She smiled sweetly at him.
He smiled back, amusement dancing in his eyes as he practically collapsed into the chair. "If I go back tomorrow with a butchered haircut, Obi-Wan is going to have some questions for me." After finding the scissors and walking back over, she put her hands on her hips.
"You say I'll butcher your hair, but what you don't know is that I used to cut Sola's hair," He raised his eyebrows at her. "Ok, we were kids then, but so what? I helped cut Ryoo and Pooja's hair the last time I was home. Plus, Obi-Wan will probably think you just tried to cut your own hair if it turns out as bad as you think it will." At his smirk she added, "Which it won't."
"Whatever you say." His smirk lingered, but he closed his eyes as he sunk further into the chair and laid his head back.
She shook her head at his relaxing form. "Don't fall asleep on me just yet, Ani." She walked up to the back of the chair where his head was rested. He cracked an eye open and she almost told him to just go to sleep instead—he looked so tired—but he spoke first.
"Yes, ma'am." He brought his head upright, straightening his position on the chair.
With some thought, she remembered his hair the way it had been when he had left. It spiked a bit in the front, and it was all short except for the small ponytail in the back. She wouldn't have to cut too much of his hair off thankfully, but she would have to trim his pony tail alone with everything else. She wouldn't cut his braid though; she knew enough about the Jedi not to touch it.
Softly touching his lengthened locks, she hesitated before using the scissors. Not because she was nervous, but because she loved the feeling of her fingers intertwined in his hair. "Someday, you should grow your hair out." She said, distractedly.
"Once I'm knighted, I will." She could practically see the bitter smirk in her mind. It was a touchy subject, so she just dropped it there.
Lightly pulling on a chunk of his blonde hair, she brought the scissors up to the section. She clipped and the first lock fell onto the chair. She continued cutting slowly and a comfortable silence built between them. She decided to break their quiet.
"How are you, Anakin?" She asked, hoping he would tell her the truth, unlike what was told to the presses. He was supposed to be The Hero with No Fear after all. When he didn't respond at first though, she didn't think he was going to answer.
He let out a shaky sigh. "I don't know." He said so quietly she had to strain to hear him. Her brows furrowed at the top of his head.
"What happened?" She asked carefully. There was another pause where—she realized—he was getting a hold of himself before he answered.
"The mission was a failure, Padmé. A disaster." His voice shook a bit when he started. "We sent six cruisers to break the blockade surrounding the planet. It took a month to do it, and we lost half of our ships. Once we got to the planet, we were either in constant battle or being bombed. We lost most of our companies and barely made a dent in their lines." His voice cracked. "All of the Jedi Padawans got slaughtered. Only me, Obi-Wan, and two other Jedi made it out of there alive." His voice sounded like sandpaper. Like there were rocks in his throat.
She paused her cutting in disbelief; she knew the most recent efforts in the war weren't going well, but she hadn't expected it to be so bad. She knew that only half of what Anakin said would make it on the Holonews, and she suddenly became angry at the Jedi for only allowing her husband one day back on Coruscant.
Instead of voicing her anger however, she put down the scissors and hurried to the front of him, getting on her knees by his side. "Oh Ani, I'm so sorry." She stroked his cheek with her thumb, her hand cupping his face. He leaned into her touch as he closed his eyes, covered her hand with his own, and kissed the inside of her palm.
Her heart lurched and tears threatened to spill. It wasn't fair. And what was worse is that she couldn't understand. Couldn't understand why the Jedi weren't allowed to love. Why she and Anakin couldn't be together. Also, how any of the Jedi actually made it through the Force-forsaken war without someone to hold onto or support them. Could they really be that hard hearted?
She knew that wasn't true for all Jedi though; Obi-Was, for example, was not unaffected at all. Every time she saw him she saw the growing circles under his eyes, and the worn look on his face. The way his steps were that much heavier every time he returned from another demanding mission.
How could they do that to themselves?
With the sadness came a cold fear in her heart. She had come so close to losing Anakin and hadn't even known it. He had been the only surviving Padawan, and it could have turned out a lot differently. She could have been alone, and he could have died without her.
"Anakin." She breathed. His glossy blue eyes met hers, and she felt the urge to cry again. She didn't though, and got up to set herself in his lap. Before he could say anything, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tight.
Although she was the one in his lap, he was the one being held. Slowly, with trembling hands, he griped the back of her dress with fervor and let out a shaking sob. She felt the tears dampen her chest as he continued to weep, letting a single tear of her own roll down her cheek and land on his unfinished haircut. She smoothed over where it had fallen, whispering hushed words of comfort to her husband.
After he had no more tears left to shed, and the only noise was his rough breathing, she continued to hold him. They sat like that for what felt like forever and yet no time at all. After another minute of silence, he weakly brought his head back to look into her eyes. His own were swollen and red, but she swore they were the bluest and most beautiful she had ever seen them.
She wiped a stray tear off his face as he looked at her with such reverence she felt like dying.
"I love you." His voice was throaty as he trailed his hands up and down her arms with the lightest of touches, his eyes never leaving hers.
"And I, you." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She ran her fingers along the sides of his neck, bending over to kiss his forehead. He cradled her head with his hands and brought her lips down to his.
Their kiss was soft this time, lips barely meeting before breaking, then meeting once again only to remain together. His lips were still chapped, but warm, and she couldn't help but melt against him. He dipped her back in his lap to deepen the kiss, his hands roaming over her body as her arms tightened their hold around his neck. They broke apart, catching their breaths.
"I still need to finish cutting your hair." She whispered, quietly panting and running her hand over the uneven tresses. He responded by giving her a short, but passionate kiss.
"Finish it later." He went down to kiss her again, but she stopped him with a finger.
"You still have to bathe." She reminded him lightly. He looked conflicted, but in the end he groaned and sat her up. If his disappointment was any clearer on his face, she would have felt it herself. Not to say that she wasn't disappointed either, but nothing was going to happen until he cleaned up. "I might as well finish cutting it now."
He thought about it for a second before shaking his head. "Fine." She smiled sympathetically and grabbed the scissors from where she left them, returning to her spot behind him.
"Don't worry, I'll make it quick." She promised. After all, she only had one night with him, and she wasn't planning on wasting one second of it.