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“Do you remember the silly question I asked you, when we first met? On Tatooine?”
Padmé turned her head towards Anakin with a small confused smile. She couldn’t really see her husband, angled as they were, with the man plastering himself to her back like a particularly clingy Kowakian. Realizing she couldn't see him, she nuzzled into his neck anyway.
“You said a lot of things that made me laugh that day.”
He huffed a laugh.
“I asked if you were an Angel.”
Padmé’s smile grew into a grin. She did remember that.
“‘From the moons of Iego’.”
She could feel his lips curl into a smile where they pressed against the crown of her head.
“Yeah.”
He began softly swaying, using his height advantage and powerful arms to take her with him. Her heart swelled with contentment as she rocked side to side in her husband’s hold.
“I met one. An Angel.”
He was always dropping things like that into conversations so casually. He could joke about the sometimes-too-casual way she brought up the opulence of her childhood, her time as Queen, and her Senatorial accommodations all he wanted, but he still seemed to forget that he’d been to more planets than even the most dedicated traveler would in their entire life, thanks to the Jedi Order.
And thanks to the war.
“Oh?”
She tried not to think of the war in times like these. She didn't want thoughts of the galactic struggle she could do nothing about but watch as it dragged down everyone around her, including her husband, to affect the few moments she had with her husband.
Her Ani.
She remembered the little boy she met on Tattooine fondly. Even more so now that she was dreaming of them having children of their own. Her sleeping subconscious was full of images of a happy little blond boy, playing and smiling and laughing to his heart’s content. Her waking thoughts were occupied by his grown-up mirror. By the little dream boy’s father.
“How do I compare to ‘the most beautiful creatures in the universe’?”
When they initiated their relationship, when they got married, she feared that it would turn out to be too much, too soon. That it was simply a fling that would fizzle out and leave them both miserably tied to each other, even if only in secret. She would tense up any time he gave her a kiss for longer than a few seconds, or kissed her any place other than her face.
The years had taught her to love nothing more than the sweet way he kissed her neck. He always started at the base of her neck and kissed up, not stopping until his nose met the crown of her skull and he stood with his face pressed into her hair.
It wasn't sexual at all, and for that, she loved him.
“She didn’t even come close to you.”
She loved him so much.
“You are truthfully the most beautiful creature I've ever set eyes on, even after all these years.”
Her heart swelled with love as she leaned against his broad chest. He nosed at her hair again, inhaling deeply. He loved the smell of the many soaps and oils she used in her hair. And she loved him.