Chapter 25

Anakin stood in the center of the outcropping on the Theed cliffs. It was bathed in the light of Naboo's full moon, casting long shadows through the trees and covering everything with a luminous glow. He looked into the distance where the lights of Theed twinkled and danced, the city illuminated for the celebration of the coronation of Naboo's new Queen.

He looked at Padmé, who was standing over by the small creek. Her face tilted up toward the sky and a few loose curls danced in the warm breeze. The moonlight reflected off the tiny beads woven into her gown, giving the impression that she had been cast among the stars themselves. She really is an angel, Anakin thought. His pulse quickened as he watched her and remembered the last time they had been here. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

When he had left Padmé with the healers that day, he had gone straight to the Republic Navy personnel center and asked for his orders. Then he slipped away for training, not bothering to tell Padmé or anyone else where he had gone. The pilot training was boring, filled with repetitive tasks that he had mastered as a pre-teen pod race driver. As a result, he often clashed with the instructor pilots, officers, and noncoms at the training base, earning a reputation for being an arrogant, disagreeable maverick. Though his fellow trainees adored him - not least for the fact that his antics kept the pressure off them - he was moody and unhappy.

And lonely. He hadn't said goodbye to Padmé when he left her in that hospital room. He hadn't intended to leave that day. Going to the Navy office had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He had not anticipated how much he would miss her, and as the weeks stretched on, the dull ache in his heart became more and more intense. She had not communicated with him at all, and he worried about her recovery and her ability to serve her world, which was more precious to her than anything. He worried about Bail Organa - had the Viceroy taken advantage of Anakin's absence? Finally unable to stand it any longer, he had sent her a tentative message.

She didn't respond for a long while, and Anakin despaired that he had lost her. He was on the verge of abandoning his pilot training to go back to her when the letter arrived. Not a holo-message, but a letter, handwritten on fine paper in elegant, looping script. Her scent wafted from it, and Anakin thought he might pass out. It was a friendly letter, asking about the progress of his training and when he expected to be assigned to a squadron. His heart sank at the lack of intimacy in her words, until he reached the last lines.

I miss you terribly, Anakin. The Palace seems empty without your energy to fill it, and my nights are cold and lonely without your warmth and love to keep me company. I pray that you remain safe and never forget that I love you.

Yours,

Padmé

It had taken all of Anakin's willpower not to steal a ship and go to her then. But enclosed in the letter was another envelope with a heavy card inside. It read: The People of Naboo request the honor of your presence at the coronation of Queen Jamilla and the celebration to follow.

Anakin had felt sick. Had Padmé given up her throne willlingly? Or had her people called for elections? He couldn't believe it might be the latter. Padmé was a good queen, and her people loved her. He scanned the card and saw at the bottom: As a personal guest of Senator Padmé Naberrie.

Seeing her at the coronation ball tonight had solidified his resolve. She looked stunning. Her shimmering white gown clung to her curves and her hair was piled on top of her head, exposing the elegant arch of her neck. He had never seen Padmé dressed formally, only Queen Amidala, and it had taken all of his control not to gape at her. He walked over and asked her to dance, and once she was in his arms, it was as if they had never been apart.

He pulled himself from his reverie and looked over at Padmé. She wandered aimlessly along the small creek. She wore a wistful expression and Anakin grinned as he sensed the direction of her thoughts. Me, too, love. Me too. He glided up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. Padmé leaned back against him and he kissed her neck, smiling at the little shiver that ran through her body.

"Having second thoughts, Senator?"

"About what, Ani?" she asked.

"About that," he said, waving in the general direction of the Palace. "Giving it up."

"It wasn't mine to keep, Anakin," she said. "Naboo is ready for a new Queen. And with the war, we need to lift our eyes beyond our horizon. I felt that I could better serve my people in the Senate, where perhaps I can influence the decisions that will affect Naboo the most."

Then she grinned. "And as a Senator, I will have an excuse to inspect fighter squadrons with handsome young pilots that look irresistable in uniform."

Anakin tightened his arms around her and they just stood there for a while, enjoying the view and each other's company. Anakin squirmed mentally, trying to screw up his courage for what he planned to do next.

"Have I told how beautiful you look tonight?" he whispered into her hair.

Padmé let out a small laugh; it was a sound that Anakin hadn't realized how much he had missed until right now. "Only about a hundred times, Ani."

"Well, you really do look like an angel in this dress," Anakin said. "The only other times I've seen you dressed up were when you were wearing one of your three-ton Royal tents that completely hid you from view."

"So it's the dress you find beautiful and not me," Padmé said. She turned in his arms and gave him a playful pout.

"Of course not!" he protested. He bent to give her a lingering kiss, then kept his lips just above hers as he spoke. "But I was hoping that you would wear something special for me tonight."

She gave him a provocative look. "That would depend on what it is…and how long you intend for me to keep it on."

Anakin suddenly felt lightheaded and he resisted the urge to tackle her right there. He fumbled in the sleeve of his uniform tunic and came out with small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a ring set with an intricately cut sky-blue sapphire.

"This is what I want you to wear," he said, gazing into her eyes. "As for how long…would forever be too much to ask?"

Padmé stared at him as he dropped to one knee.

"I love you, Padmé Amidala Naberrie. I've loved you since the first time I saw you and my love has only grown stronger with time. We were meant to be together, you and I. The will of the Force, destiny, whatever you want to call it. But there is no denying our bond."

He took her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. "I want to be with you always. To watch you sleep. To see you awaken every morning. To know you'll always be there. Nothing would honor me more than having you accept me as your husband. Will you marry me, Padmé?"

Padmé threw her arms around his neck. "Of course I will, Ani!"

Anakin grabbed her and whirled her around, delighting in her screams of laughter. It seemed so long since they had been able to steal an unguarded moment. He set her down, still holding her, and cupped her face with one hand. Then as nervously as he had the first time, he pulled her against him and kissed her. Not a passionate kiss, but slow and tender, softly stroking her lips with his. Her body trembled as her fingers wove into his hair, and Anakin felt a sharp stab of pleasure in his middle, a weakness in his limbs. Just when he thought he might collapse, Padmé sank to the grass, pulling him atop her.

He broke the kiss and propped up on his elbows to look at her. "Careful, Senator," he said. "You don't want ruin this beautiful dress rolling around on the ground."

She gave him a sly smile. "I'm sure you can think of a way to keep that from happening, Lieutenant."

Anakin grinned. "Indeed I can," he said, reaching for one of the gown's thin straps.

***************

Darth Sidious stood alone on a high Palace balcony, musing over the recent events. The attack on Coruscant had been very fruitful. A shaken Senate had approved Alderaan's military consolidation bill by an overwhelming majority, and the proposed increases in military spending and research engendered only a few weak voices of protest. They were quickly silenced by frightened Senators and strategically placed 'donations' from Corporate worlds anxious to cash in on the spoils of war.

And the next phase was already underway. He would move to broker influence and solidify his position. The Republic would hand him what he desired most, and with a few exceptions, there would be no need for violence. The normal course of war and a few 'assists' from his minions would see to that.

Sidious allowed himself a grim smile. Yes, his plans were proceeding as he had foreseen, with one notable hitch – the Skywalker boy. His apprentice had failed to bring him the young man, instead falling before the Jedi's saber. And while Sidious could not permit such an offense to go unpunished – years of preparation and effort had gone into the training of Darth Nemesis – he marveled at Skywalker's raw power. The boy was a deep well of resentment and anger, just waiting for the right person to show him how to tap it.

Sidious chuckled. Perhaps Nemesis's death had been useful after all. Skywalker was yet too immersed in the Light to be forcibly turned. But he had experienced the rush of power that came from the Dark, and like a spice addict, would go back to it again. And again. Yes, seduction would be much more effective than coercion.

He looked out over the Theed cliffs, his lined visage thoughtful as he sensed the passionate interlude between Skywalker and the erstwhile Queen of Naboo. The Jedi might not be able to keep the young man anchored in the Light, but she would. Senator Naberrie had always been troublesome and would continue to be, but he could use her in his endeavor to bring Skywalker over. That would accomplish two of his objectives – the taking of the apprentice needed to complete his plans and the painful demise of a long-time enemy.

Yes, he mused. The boy's passion will be the path to his conversion. The Jedi were right to discourage love – it was the seed and root of so many other, less pleasant emotions. All of which would serve Sidious' purposes very well.

Everything was proceeding in the manner he desired. All he had to do now was make any necessary adjustments to keep the plan on course.

***************

"Anakin, calm down," Jahn Elluis admonished for what seemed like the hundredth time. He watched as Anakin paced back and forth across the stone floor of the small temple. "You're going to wear a hole in the floor."

Anakin realized what he was doing, and stopped. Five seconds later, he was in motion again, bouncing around the room like a hyperactive insect. The temple's priestess, a tiny, gray-haired woman dressed in plain white robes, stood by the altar and looked at him with amusement.

"Calm yourself, my son," she said, her voice surprisingly large for such small person. "You're not the first young man I've joined with his beloved, and I haven't lost one yet."

Anakin halted again and looked out at the Naberrie family, seated on the temple's simple wooden benches. He flushed as he saw Padmé's father watching him with a bemused expression. Cordel Naberrie was a big man with graying hair and an intimidating presence. Anakin's voice had shaken when he presented himself to Cordel to ask his permission to marry Padmé. But the big farmer had just roared with laughter and given Anakin a teeth-rattling clap on the back. If you can handle her, son, she's all yours.

Anakin glanced at the rest of the Naberrie clan, gathered for the wedding of their most precocious member. Aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters. Anakin wished for his mother's presence. He had no family to be with him on this important day. Not even any of the Jedi. Jahn Elluis was serving as his escort and witness.

Why should they be here? None of them wanted this for me anyway. I think it might have killed some of them to see me happy.

He tried not to squirm, but couldn't help pulling at the hem of his white tunic. In contrast to the lavishness of most Naboo garments, wedding clothing was simple and plain. Both bride and groom wore white, to symbolize a new beginning. While Anakin appreciated the simplicity, on this occasion he would have liked to be dressed more formally. He felt like a slob standing next to Jahn, who wore his full dress uniform.

"Don't fidget, Anakin. It's unbecoming an officer and a gentleman," said a soft voice behind him.

Anakin whirled around to see a man in a Republic Army full dress uniform standing behind him. His eyes widened. Only the absence of a Padawan braid and some strands of gray mixed with the man's auburn hair kept him from thinking he had stepped back in time.

"Obi-Wan?" He had to ask the question despite the distinctive Force presence. He hadn't seen his master clean-shaven in almost ten years. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to stand with my Pad – my friend – on the most important day of his life," Obi-Wan replied with a smile. He looked at Jahn. "That is, if you will allow me that honor."

Jahn grinned and backed away, waving in a "be my guest" gesture. Obi-Wan turned and Anakin's uncertain expression slowly melted into a smile as he reached for the outstretched hand. When he clasped Obi-Wan's hand, he felt a profound sense of affection and relief.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan," Anakin said, his voice breaking. "You have no idea what this means to me."

Obi-Wan smiled and nodded toward the rear of the temple. Anakin turned and caught his breath.

Padmé stood in the arched doorway. She wore a simple white shift, cinched at the waist by a plain brown cord. Her dark curls tumbled free about her face and shoulders, and the morning sun cast a golden halo around her head. Her feet were bare.

"I see what you mean about seeing angels," Obi-Wan whispered.

Anakin, not trusting his voice, could only nod. He struggled not to gape as Padmé walked throught the center of the temple, Sabé at her shoulder as escort and witness. Even in the plain shift, her beauty seemed to illuminate the entire room, and Anakin pinched himself to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. Padmé gave him a brilliant smile as she approached, and he knew his wide grin probably looked a bit crazy. He held out his hand. She took it in hers and he guided her to the altar.

"Who stands with this woman?" asked the priestess.

"I do," said Sabé, bowing to the priestess. "Sabé Martiarrie of the city of Theed, and representative of the Court of Queen Jamilla, who has given sanction to this union."

"Present yourself," the priestess said to Padmé, her arms spread wide in welcome.

Padmé bowed before the altar. "I, Padmé Amidala Naberrie, daughter of Cordel and Naré, do submit myself for bonding in accordance with Naboo tradition."

The priestess turned. "And who stands with this man?"

"I do," Obi-Wan replied with a bow. "General Obi-Wan Kenobi of Coruscant. I am a Jedi Knight and representative of the Jedi Council of Twelve, who have given their approval to the union of Padawan Skywalker and Senator Naberrie."

Anakin stared in disbelief. Obi-Wan shot him a dry smile, his blue eyes dancing. Anakin looked back and saw Master Gallia sitting in the back row of the temple. She gave him a warm smile. Padmé squeezed his hand, and Anakin realized with a start that the priestess was facing him with her arms spread wide.

"Uh, I am Anakin Skywalker, son of Shmi," he said, bowing. He paused for a moment, and grinned at Obi-Wan. "And apprentice to Obi-Wan Kenobi. I submit myself for bonding in accordance with Naboo tradition."

The priestess took his and Padmé's hands. The rest of the ceremony seemed almost unreal, and Anakin felt like he was floating, aware of very little beyond Padmé's giddy smile and warm brown eyes as she slipped a plain gold band onto his finger. Her love radiated from her, washing over him like a wave. It hardly seemed possible that such a beautiful creature could belong to him. He barely noticed as Sabé and Obi-Wan bound his hand to Padmé's, stumbling through his vows with the prompting of the priestess. One moment, they were two people, separate and distinct, and the next they were one, husband and wife, forever linked through the solemnity of their vows and the strength of their love.

"Anakin?"

"Huh?" he replied, startled.

The priestess gave him a tolerant smile. "You may kiss your wife, Anakin."

My wife.

Anakin bent and brushed his lips over Padmé's, then pulled her into a deeper embrace, their bound hands against the small of her back. The sun, shining bright until now, suddenly disappeared behind a cloud. Anakin drew back from her, staring out the window as a chill passed through him.

(There's a storm coming up, Ani.)

He hugged Padmé to his chest and lay his cheek on her head. The strange feeling persisted. He looked over at Obi-Wan, who wore a strained smile, and knew his master felt the chill as well.

Everything will be all right. I have my angel, now my life is complete. He squeezed Padmé until he heard her gasp for air, but continued to cling to her.

(There's a storm coming up, Ani.)

Storm's coming…