Flirting With A Jedi

Chapter 3: The Festival, First Day

"When a woman is talking to you, listen to what she says with her eyes."

—Victor Hugo

From early in the morning, the constant coming and going of all kinds of people awoke Anakin and Padmé. Each in their own separate bed.

Through his balcony, Anakin watched the countless flying cars that arrived, dropping a handful of politicians, and their servants. By then, the whole festival appeared to be the most stupid thing in the world. He saw the women pass by in their expensive gowns, he saw the men walk about in their fancy clothes. And he thought of all the hell the Jedi and Clones were probably going through at that same moment. Hell? No, because they accepted war and defending others as their duty. He suddenly wondered why he wasn't with them. They probably needed him. Ahsoka most of all. And he actually missed the excitement of being in a battle. At that point, nothing could relieve his frustration like blowing a droid into a million pieces. Or flying across the endless space. Using his lightsaber… anything other than sitting around, waiting to be called to spend time with a bunch of rich people.

Rich people that were not only overly-privileged, but despicable beyond reason. He always hated politicians—those people who always talked and preached about how important it was to help people, while of course talking from their luxurious homes, behind guards, while the common people either died, or killed to not be killed. He knew he was sent to war because of people like them. He knew they were the reason unprepared people, like his Padawan, had to risk their lives at every turn, given a higher order that couldn't seem to find another solution.

He really hated politicians!

Of course… not all of them.

Surely he could take Padmé out of that group of people.

And Palpatine, too, for sure.

Even people like Bail Organa seemed all right.

But the majority… man, were they awful!

And now he had to spend three days in their company. Faking a smile that should be a frown. Asking, 'how are you?' when what needed to be said was, 'You know people are starving? You know there are slaves? Can't you at least do more than just give a bite and throw everything away? Or you, kind lady, did you really need such an elaborated gown? Don't you know that with that money you could buy supplies? Or maybe you all forgot… the Republic is in turmoil! We are in the middle of a blasted war! Congratulations on your new daughter, Your Majesty. Maybe after the three day celebrations are over, you could send a slice of cold bread to the poor children on the war zones…!'

"Master Anakin," a voice called from outside the door and brought him back.

"What do you want, Threepio?" he cried angrily.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, sir. But, Senator Amidala says you are to come down immediately. The first activity of the Festival will soon start. There is a welcoming breakfast for all the guests."

"Oh, and why didn't she come and tell me herself?"

The droid had now entered and was closer than he felt it was safe.

"Well, sir: she thought that now that everyone is here, it wouldn't be the best idea."

"Oh, did she?"

C-3PO stepped away from his maker and master.

"I'm not hungry," Anakin said.

"Well, she prepared me for that answer. She said that it wasn't a matter of hunger. You need to go down, out of courtesy."

"Courtesy, she said?" his voice was checked, yet it had a quality that intimidated the droid. "Tell her to go to hell with all the other politicians. I'm going back to the Jedi temple. I need to be assigned a mission. I just can't stay here. Ahsoka, Obi-Wan and the Clones need me. She clearly doesn't. But the Republic needs me. It needs all of us, and we can't just stay here in Naboo having fun. I'm going Threepio. Tell Artoo we're going."

The droid listened to him with supreme attention, and after Anakin finished talking, he excused himself and moved towards the next door room. Anakin waited like a minute or two before reacting.

"Oh, what have I done? What am I doing?" he cried. "Threepio, wait! Forget it!"

It was too late, the droid was gone. Anakin entered the senator's bedroom without even knocking. She was resting on a comfortable chair, and she was alone. The droids were on the small living room, looking as sad as two droids could.

Anakin closed the door behind him, and contemplated his wife.

Padmé's expression wasn't hard to read.

Clearly, C-3PO had communicated exactly like Anakin had indicated him to do.

She looked at him, she smiled sadly, and looked down again.

"Are you coming to say goodbye?" she said, after her husband was unable of saying anything.

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

"You can't help the way you feel, Anakin. I'm sorry this trip had to end this way."

He was almost chocking from desperation. It had ended already?

"Oh, Padmé! Forgive me! I'm so, so sorry. I was just speaking for the sake of speaking. I—I meant nothing of it. Please, my love, please don't hate me!"

His voice sounded like a madmen, incredibly desperate. Like a beggar who was about to be removed from the last piece of bread. Like someone abandoned in a desert who saw a last drop of water.

Her heart sank and it showed on her face.

"Anakin, I could never hate you. I must apologize, too. I could've acted better."

"No," he denied with words and his head. "You were right, about everything. I knew how things were going to be when we got married—"

"Yes," she interrupted. "We knew. 'We would be force to live a lie' wasn't that it? It's true. Could we ever…" she could hardly speak now, tears were flooding her pretty, sad face. "Could we ever be happy?"

"Oh, but we are, Padmé! We are!"

"Are we? The message you just sent me didn't exactly speak pure joy. You're not happy, and I can't stand that. I would rather for you to leave me if it meant that that way you'll be happier. I don't ever want to make you miserable. I love you too much, Anakin."

He was running his human hand through his hair now, completely in despair.

Oh, why did his emotions always get the best of him?

Why did he had to have such an eagerness for speaking his mind, even when he knows it's better to keep his thoughts for himself?

Now there he is, on the brink of losing the love of his life. He desired to grab his lightsaber and cut himself with it.

"Leave, Anakin," he heard her say. "It's for the best. Don't worry about me. Worry about you, for once," she finished her sentence with an ironic and tired smile.

Leave her? How could that even be an option?

No, he'll never do that. They'll have to drag him from her.

He ran to her and put his arms around her. The whole group of politicians, or even the whole Jedi order could've appear then, and he still wouldn't let go of her. The fear of losing her had never been greater (and it would only get worse with the years!).

"I'm not leaving you!" he cried. Kiss after kiss, she let herself be handled. "I can't"

Anakin lifted her from her chair. Her feet couldn't reach the floor, and she felt the rough mark of his fingers on her skin.

He threw her into the bed and begun removing her clothes.

The sound of steps across the house were easy to notice.

The voices of many guests got louder and louder.

Anakin and Padmé hadn't the ability to care, at that point.

He kissed her whole body, he passed his hands all over her, caressing, adoring.

"I love you!" Padmé cried, when her breath could return, allowing her to speak.

"I love you, too!" he cried back, when his lips weren't too busy kissing her skin.

"Oh, Anakin!" she couldn't prevent herself from screaming his name.

And every time she pronounced his name with so much pleasure, he felt more and more in ecstasy.

Morning had passed, and Padmé laid lovingly on her husband's broad chest. She grabbed his human hand and played with his fingers. He buried his face on the back of her head, smelling her sweet hair, and kissing it.

Their naked bodies were so at ease under the covers, it felt like life had never been so perfect before.

"Maybe we should go down, now," he said.

"No…" she whispered. "I am not ready. I can't face them. And—I don't want to."

Anakin's hand pressed her thigh, and it ran all over her leg, sweetly.

"My love, we have to."

"I know."

"It's a wonder they haven't called for us yet."

"Yes."

"What excuse could we give?"

"I don't know. I can say I wasn't feeling good enough to meet everyone. And... You could say that as a Jedi you aren't used to big parties. Or we could runaway now, and save the explanations."

They both laughed quietly.

"I think those excuses will do," Anakin said.

"They'll have to."

"Should we get ready?"

"I guess."

It seemed impossible to separate from one another.

Padmé was the first to try it.

She removed his strong arms from her, and she stood up. Anakin watched her put her robe on with a smile on his face.

It will suffice, he thought. I must make this work. I just can't lose her. The next few days, I will conform to having her presence so close, to have her next to me. It will do- I love her.

Anakin and Padmé didn't show themselves until dinner.

They thought that going one after the other would look too suspicious, so they entered the dining room together.

All eyes turned to see the couple that had just arrived.

Even Padmé with her years of experience in the public eye felt nervous.

Palpatine had saved them a seat next to him. Each of them would be by his sides.

"My dear senator Amidala! Young Skywalker!" the Chancellor cried. "So glad you finally arrive! Please, take a seat." He made a motion with his fingers, indicating the servants to bring more plates. "Coruscant is a long way, isn't it?" he said and Padmé almost blushed.

Bail Organa was next to Padmé, and he was the person who spoke the most at first. The other senators just responded to what he said, and the Chancellor simply nodded along, or when bored, proposed a new topic of conversation. Anakin was death silent. He only ate, smile when the others did, frown when the others did, and limited to look at Padmé only when she spoke directly at him.

One would think the young Jedi was very shy. Unaccustomed to big crowds. His mind superior for the teachings of the Jedi. His personality like the millions of fellow members. They could never tell his true self. He was the hero of the Clone Wars, and when people spoke to him, it was to praise his courage and abilities.

Meanwhile Senator Amidala appeared her usual self. Amiable, kind, and smart. Though almost too serious for such a young, beautiful woman.

Anakin was feeling quite at ease now. His secret was safe and therefore, his marriage, as well. No one had thought it strange that they both missed breakfast, and the playing in the garden that followed. Everyone was too busy enjoying themselves, and the focus was on the Queen of Naboo, who was really enjoying motherhood away from all of them, at home with her family, as one should.

And when people ran out of things to say about the Queen, the conversation moved towards Chancellor Palpatine, who was still so admired after so long in power. Anakin mostly hated when he heard politicians being praised, but with that old man, he not only could stand it but he agreed with everything being said. Then, the conversation moved inevitably towards the war, and it would've been an interesting topic for the Jedi, were not for the fact that he felt everyone on that table but him was so incredibly disconnected to that subject.

He could look at them and think, "What do you know of war? Do you know what is like to see friends die in a battlefield? To spend days and nights without food or shelter, under the cold or rain—no. You know about political meetings and festivities. You decide who dies and who lives. And you dare call it a hard choice, while you and your families sleep so safely and happily…"

But his face was that calm mask of a Jedi, and no one, except maybe Padmé, could see beyond it.

The conversation had Anakin bored out of his mind, so he was relieved when dinner was over. But then, the ball was coming. Oh, and he didn't want to go. He could already see the crowd of men asking his wife for a dance. And he had to be careful, he didn't want to give himself away, so he decided he wasn't going. Surely no one would think it strange. It would be in character for a Jedi…

Anakin was saying goodbye to some people, when he felt, through the Force, somebody's glance on him. And it wasn't anyone he knew, could it be the danger Palpatine had warn him about before?

But he saw nothing too out of the normal, so he continued with his false pleasantries.

He was about to announce he was going to miss the ball, when at last, he saw the eyes he had felt on him before. And they were nothing like he had expected.

For one thing, they were female eyes. But very different than any others he ever saw before.

Palpatine said goodbye to everyone, and he wished them to have a great time in the dance room. "You are all of this home," he said, kindly. "Till tomorrow! Please enjoy yourselves!"

"I'll be going, too," Anakin said, but Palpatine looked too surprised.

"Why, Anakin? When the fun is just getting started, why, boy?"

"I'm not really a dancer, sir."

"Oh, come boy! After we miss you all day—you and dear Amidala."

"About that, sir… I didn't come down because…"

"Oh, Padmé explained it already. Don't worry about it. It's sad the Jedi have so much influence as to break the spirit of a young man—"

"Sir…" Anakin could never get used to the casual way Palpatine always spoke of the Jedi Order.

"Oh, I mean no harm. I know you agreed to their 'rules'"

"Code."

"Right. But, haven't you noticed, they aren't here! So, have fun, my boy. You won't always be so young. Please, enjoy the ball. Besides, you have promised to take care of Padmé. And you just know, she's going to need it in a minute, when the vultures gather around her to beg for a dance."

Don't remind me! Anakin thought.

"All right, sir. Good night."

"Good night, Anakin."

Anakin watched the dining room grow empty. The plates and glasses were being removed, and he just couldn't drag himself towards the dance room. He sat for a moment and tried to gather the strength for what was coming.

Suddenly he stood up, feeling the presence of someone coming inside again. It was the same presence from before, those same, strange female eyes. And she had a smile on her face, too. Anakin saw her when he first entered the dining room, and he had been introduced to her, but since he was so nervous then, he barely paid any attention to her. Now, as they were truly alone, he couldn't do anything else.

"Hello," she said, never losing that smile from her face.

"Hi," he said and made move to leave her.

"You look bored," she said.

"Um," he wasn't sure of what to say. "No, I'm just tired. I'm going to sleep."

"Already! But, the party is barely getting started. I thought the main reason—if not the only one—most of us live through that political talk is so we can enjoy the dancing that follows."

Anakin laughed awkwardly, though he couldn't quite explain why.

"Come, boy, tell me you weren't dying of boredom listening to Senator Organa and Senator Amidala going on and on about… what were they even talking about? Well, who cares!" and the girl laughed; most people would've found her laugh gentle and charming, but she was laughing at Padmé, which immediately prompted Anakin to dislike her.

"Well, good night," he said, not even bothering to sound polite.

"So you really aren't coming? What a shame!"

Why would it be a shame?

His lost look of confusion seemed to amuse her.

"What was your name again?" she asked, making sure he wouldn't leave her just yet.

"Anakin Skywalker."

"Why, of course! The Jedi knight. I know Palpatine is very particular about safety, but it seems like such an exaggeration to have a Force user guarding us here tonight. I really doubt the Separatists would attack Naboo of all places."

"You never know."

"Well, it's not like I'm complaining. The Force be with Palpatine for bringing you here with us."

He was surprised at hearing her speak so casually, calling him 'Palpatine' when everyone when speaking about him, referred to him as 'Chancellor'.

"I'm Arabella, by the way," she said when he failed to ask her for a name. "Arabella Bronte."

She wasn't discouraged by his lack of interest and cold manners, she knew that's the way Jedi were supposed to act, and it somehow made it all more exciting, as if it were a challenge.

"Arabella Bronte," he accepted.

"Call me Arabella."

"It was nice to meet you, but I'm gonna go, now."

"Oh, please don't!" she got closer to him. "I had never seen a Jedi at a party before, and it's just so exciting. Please come. Just one dance, please!" the way she batted her eyelashes made him feel strange, and her big eyes were more convincing than any word she had said. Since he didn't know how to refuse her or even think of a better excuse, he said, "All right. One dance. I mean, why not?"

"That's the spirit, Jedi!"

She waited for him to offer her his arm, and when he didn't, she took it herself.

"Do not worry if you're not a very good dancer," she said as they walked, arm in arm, towards the dance room. "I'm a great one!"

Must she be so energetic about everything she says? Anakin thought, annoyed.

When they entered the dance room, Anakin's eyes searched endlessly for Padmé, and when she was found, the Jedi breathed easily. She wasn't dancing. She was observing, sitting next to some of her handmaidens and Naboo friends. All female friends! Thank the Force! He now could stand the presence of his company better.

"I really do hope you can lead, Jedi," Arabella said, placing Anakin's metallic hand on her waist.

He smiled cruelly.

"You will see."

He grabbed her so tightly she moaned a little, silently mostly, in pain.

"Take it easy, Jedi!" she cried, laughing amidst her pain.

She was surprised to see the Jedi could actually dance. She had expected for Anakin to make a fool of himself. It was a pleasant surprise, and her face showed it. Their feet floated through the huge hall, harmoniously to the sweet song that was playing at the moment.

"Where are you from?" Arabella asked, and her voice was as melodious as a song. But the question as repulsive as a Sith.

Anakin grinned at her, trying not to look angry.

"All right, you don't have to tell me," she said, lowering her gaze, and looking for the first time sometime other than joyous. Her bright eyes looked almost sad.

"Tatooine," Anakin said. He had no reason to answer a question he didn't want to, but that girl had something in her that just inspired trust.

"Oh," she said. "I've never been there… I—I heard its sunsets are beautiful."

"They're all right… Where are you from?" he asked, hoping to take the focus away from himself.

She smiled even more broadly.

"Caelestile," was her response.

He thought of that name. He had definitely never been there. But he had heard of it; many politicians picked it up as a vacation planet. In fact, if she had said that instead of the actual name, he would've placed it sooner.

"Have you ever been there?" she asked, and Anakin didn't even notice that they were now around their third dance.

"No."

"I figured."

"Because only rich people and politicians go there?" he asked, tightening his grip, hurting her bared skin. His voice had gone to a hateful tone.

"No, Anakin," he noticed it was the first time she had called him by his name. "That's not what I meant at all. It's just that Jedi almost never go there."

"I'm sorry," he removed his hands from her. "Yes. It's not exactly a war zone."

They had stopped moving. They simply stood in front of the other, as other couples danced around them.

"Yes," Arabella said. "We're lucky like that."

"Well, you've had your dance. I'm going to sleep."

"Wait!" she cried, and she put her soft hand on his broad shoulder. "If you go, I will have no one to dance with," and she gave him her sweetest smile, accompanied by a set of enchanting eyes. Almost any other man would've melted at that; but Anakin Skywalker shrugged, thinking to himself: "Of course that's the kind of thing a spoiled rich girl from Caelestile would worry about." And though the thought was kept for himself, he let out a matching sigh.

"Find another one," he said with not a care in the world.

"Thanks anyway, Anakin," she said, and looked down, disappointment plain in her young face.

"Oh, don't look like that!" he said, returning to her. "We had said it would be one dance only."

"I know, but I was having fun with you."

He couldn't remember a time when anyone ever called him fun.

He sighed, annoyed. "All right, child. Suppose another dance won't hurt…"

As soon as he said that, Arabella jumped happily over him, kissing his cheek as a thank you, and grabbing his both hands; she placed the metal one on her waist again, while she kept the human one on her own.

The next song was a slow one. Anakin wasn't sure of how to dance that one, not with a stranger, but he let Arabella Bronte guide him this time. She truly was a great dancer; graceful and enthralling.

And while that young girl enjoyed Anakin so much, a bunch of eyes were prying on the young, handsome couple. Incapable of stopping themselves, the Naboo crowd was whispering about it:

"Did you ever see such a thing!?"

"That girl is unbelievable!"

"Poor Anakin, he must be so uncomfortable!"

Padmé could only try and look normal, hearing all kinds of comments, some too sharp to even be funny. Some borderline hurtful and offensive.

"Padmé, I don't understand why you don't go and rescue your friend!" one of Padmé's friends said to her.

The senator did all she could to breathe normally.

"He doesn't look like he wants to be rescued," she limited to say.

"Well, it's not like Anakin would be rude to someone. But you know—we all do, he's a Jedi!"

"Who in all the world flirts with a Jedi!"

"He must be laughing inwardly at her forward conduct!"

Padmé felt like she couldn't take it anymore.

One more comment about Anakin and that girl… and she would… oh she would—!

"Doesn't she know of the Jedi code?" Padmé heard as she felt a need to slap one of her closest friends.

"Well, what can you expect from a Caelestilian?" another catty voice said.

"Oh, but she's not just any Caelestilian. She's the new queen, you know."

"Really?" Padmé couldn't help to exclaim. "And she's so young."

"Not as much as you when you were queen of Naboo, my dear Padmé."

"Oh, can't compare our beloved Naboo to Caelestile!" said one very patriotic woman. "Don't compare sweet lakes to a wild sea!"

"Wild seas, indeed," Padmé said, as she remembered her only visit to Caelestile.

She was only seven then, and her family was on a vacation.

She remembered her awe at the incredible landscapes, so different from Naboo.

Caelestile was a paradisiacal planet. With the most stunning beaches the galaxy had to offer. It was really hot, too. Padmé thought it was too hot for its appeal. Indeed, not as unbearable as Tatooine, but still too much for Padmé's delicate skin. She thought of its crystal clear waters, its wild deep blue oceans that covered most of the planet. The strange islands that never failed to amaze her, the dangerous jungles, the tropical environment… the amicable, happy people, always with a warm smile and a kind word to say. And in a second she wished she could hate all that, and she did, almost as much as that beautiful, exotic young queen.

But the hate was short-lived, for she knew, that young girl wasn't technically doing anything wrong, not in any way that she could know.

And she actually felt bad, hearing the people of Naboo speaking so bitterly about an innocent person.

She almost felt bad, too, for agreeing with her friends at every snarky remark.

And if there was something they criticized more than Queen Arabella's attitude, it was her way of dressing. For the people of Naboo were used to seeing their royalty in elaborated, gorgeous, and big clothing, and that young foreign queen had barely covered her skin.

Because in Caelestile, the way of dressing was as free as the way of living. And giving their usual sunny climate, they didn't bother to throw a lot of clothes on.

Queen Arabella Bronte was wearing a skirt that was long on the back, while short on the front, it was a dark blue color like some of Caelestile's deepest seas. Her top that barely covered her large breasts was purely black; the small waistline that was bared altogether, had a few expensive and rare colored pearls glued to her, and they hurt her skin a bit, but in her home planet, those rare pearls were a sign of status and wealth. Altogether she was a nice image to look at, no matter what she wore. Padmé thought Arabella's beauty to be undeniable, no matter what her friends said.

The young girl, whose timeless beauty could be anywhere between fifteen and twenty five, was almost too aggressively beautiful for what the Naboo men were used to.

Her hair was black as the night sky, long, curly and extremely silkily. Her lips, red as blood, were full and inviting, in a way; extremely luscious. And her skin, oh it couldn't be smoother, it was soft, and its dark tanned tone showed that she spent many days of her life enjoying the sun. Her voluptuous figure was almost too sensual for anything of sweetness reflecting in her, but her eyes, large and bright were the very definition of that word. They weren't green nor brown, but an exotic color in between. What was it? Padmé wondered, crazily. Looking at those eyes was either like looking at two suns, when she was feeling passionate, or a deep human soul, when she was in earnest.

Padmé watched her husband dance with that young creature over and over again, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Nothing but watch.

Watch them float like over clouds.

She remembered what she had said to him earlier. "I would rather for you to leave me if it meant that that way you'll be happier…"

She quickly realized how little she had meant that.

Could he have the nerve to believe and take advantage of those words?

Or had he realized that—he could be happy without her?

It was over mid-night, and most people had already gone to sleep. Anakin and Arabella were of the few still dancing. "What could he mean by that?" Padmé was asked. "I mean, he is a man. And she's not completely awful to look at… but he's a Jedi, they don't care about that kind of stuff."

"I don't know what to tell you," Padmé's face was a blank space.

"Oh, Padmé I beg you: Let's go to them!"

"What!"

"Please, I can't approach them! You're his friend, so it wouldn't be so awkward."

Wouldn't it?

"No." Padmé said, clearly. "Why do you want to talk to them?"

"I want to see how they interact."

Padmé sighed. "All right," she said. "Let's go to them." She also wanted to see that.

Padmé's friends almost exploded with joy.

They approached the couple very awkwardly, for they didn't stop dancing at nothing. Padmé's heart sank deep when she noticed the smile on her husband's face.

"Clearly, he's having fun."

"Oh this is the best ball ever! Who would've thought we'd see such a thing? A Queen flirting with a Jedi! And the Jedi flirting back!"

Was that true? Padmé almost fainted. Was Anakin flirting with that girl?

Never mind the crowd around them, Padmé had to stop them!

"Anakin!" she called, louder than was appropriate but still not too obvious.

He stopped dancing and regarded Naboo's senator with a respectful and cordial gaze. It cut Padmé even deeper.

The couple approached Padmé and her friends.

"I haven't see you all night, Master Jedi," Padmé said, carefully observing where her husband's hands still were, around that flirtatious queen.

"On the other hand, my lady," he said. "I saw you when I first entered. Though you were too engaged with your friends, so I decided to let you have fun."

"I don't think we've properly been introduced," Arabella said, staring in awe at Padmé. "Though I know who you are."

Padmé blinked strongly. Something in the tone of that girl made her lose her patience.

"Really?" Padmé said.

"Of course, Senator Amidala. You are a legend in the Senate. An inspiration for young girls. Why, I've admired you since I was ten years old." Something in her words made Padmé think that Queen Bronte was trying to offend her, while the young girl was speaking from the heart.

"How old are you?" Padmé asked, sharply.

Arabella and everyone were surprised at Amidala's strange countenance. The young queen especially found it rude, but she let it go, remembering how people across the galaxy had a very different idea of what proper manners were. Indeed, the girl had been surprised at seeing how less warm people could be outside her home planet.

"Well," the exotic queen said with a mischievous smile. "As a former queen you must know, I couldn't possibly tell you. People take age into more importance than they should, and they can often treat you with less seriousness and respect, if they find you too young to even be experienced. Especially if you're a woman."

Padmé felt her words hit too closely. Still she couldn't smile at the girl.

"Well," Arabella said watching the group around her, and finally releasing herself from the Jedi's arms. "It truly has been a wonderful evening. It was nice to meet you all." She separated herself from Padmé's group, and she looked directly at Anakin's blue eyes. "Thank you for all, Anakin. Each dance and word was an absolute pleasure for me. I hope we can see more of each other for the rest of the festival. Good night!" and she leaned over to kiss his cheek. Anakin returned the girl's politeness with a kiss, from his own lips, to that soft, tanned cheek.

Padmé's eyes were crowded with tears. She couldn't risk being seen, so she left, giving a quick goodbye to everyone, hoping she would reach her bedroom in time, before anyone could catch her.

Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! Please review! if you can give me opinions about my OC character and her introduction I'd really appreciate it. Do you hate her yet? Like her? Wish her bad things? Let me know!

I based her name on an Arctic Monkey's song and my second favorite writer Charlotte Bronte. Her image is a mixture of the girl from the new Blade Runner, Ana de Armas (have you seen her eyes? whoa) and a young Salma Hayek (From Dusk Till Dawn, Desperado. yep).

Anyway, till next chapter ;)