Title: My Angel
Author: Xehra Bethe [email protected]
Rating: G
Setting: Post-TPM, Anakin is 17
Summary: Anakin is reunited with Amidala after a separation of three years. I think you can guess the rest.
Archive: Go right ahead
Feedback: Please!
Disclaimer: The GFFA and all the people in it belong to George. I receive no coin; I labour out of love.
Notes: / indicates inner thoughts.
Special Thanks: Go to TFN's first writing challenge for the bunny, though I haven't followed all the guidelines. Also to the girls at betas_anonymous for services rendered :)
~~~~~~~~
My Angel
~~~~~~~~
Anakin could hardly breathe with excitement as he rushed along the covered terrace. Reaching the end, he stopped, panting, to stand in the wan sunlight. His eyes searched among the throng of women working in the field below, seeking one particular figure, one he knew by sight almost as well as he knew her Force imprint. He distractedly wiped his grimy hands on his leggings. He hadn't stopped to wash off the grease and oil from the workshop when he'd heard. Still frantically hunting in the crowd for *her*, Anakin once again ran over in his head what his friend Juik had said after coming back from fetching them a late lunch.
"She's here, Ani. I just saw her over in the ruji field, helping with the ritual harvest. They say she only arrived this morning. Apparently her transport was late."
Anakin hadn't stopped to ask why, he'd simply thrown down his hydrospanner and rushed out of the transport bay. He'd been trying to fix one of the palace landspeeders, trying to occupy his mind since the news that *she* might not come at all. Today was a holiday on Durinin and his Master had released him from his duties to spend the day as he wished. He and his new friend Juik, one of the palace manservants, had decided to fix up a run-down old speeder and head out over the green fields in search of adventure. But plans changed, especially since *she* had shown up after all.
Anakin ran through and between the many white marble buildings of the palace complex towards the vast fields of ruji that stretched away from the northern side of the royal residence.
Giving up his visual search in despair, he reached out with the Force, searching for her unmistakable signature, that bright warmth that made him feel life was worth getting up every morning just to bathe in it...
There! Anakin found her, one woman amongst a hundred milling in the straight rows, taking part in the first ruji pick of the season. The First Harvest was under way and he remembered that it was the reason for today's holiday. He raced down the wide marble steps, past the assembled priests in their colourful robes, past the Naboo honour guard and plunged into the female melee. He could see her now, a simply-garbed figure slightly smaller than the native women, bending to pick up her woven basket full of the ripe green fruit.
And then he was right in front of her.
Anakin froze, momentarily terror-struck by his sudden proximity and only now realising the dozen or so protocols he had just broken.
She looked up.
"Anakin!" she said, her voice carrying a thousand nuances of surprise and pleasure. Anakin's heart skipped a beat as her features broke into a radiant smile.
"Hello Padme," he forced out, then fumbled for her correct title. "Er, I mean, Amidala, um... that is, Your Highnessness..." His eyes widened and his cheeks reddened as each word plunged him deeper and deeper into embarrassment.
/She laughed. Oh, thank the Force, she laughed./
"It's okay, Anakin. You, of all people, don't have to call me anything formal. Padme is fine, but my real name, you remember, is Amidala."
Anakin forced his mouth into a lop-sided smile and mumbled something in the affirmative.
The other women continued their work around the two, casting occasional quick, knowing glances at the Queen of Naboo and her young Jedi friend. Anakin could feel their amusement, and he shifted on his feet nervously, realising he was the only male in the rows.
Unexpectedly, Amidala placed her hand on his arm.
"It's good to see you," she said quietly. The genuine feeling she communicated made Anakin's stomach flip-flop for what felt like the fiftieth time in the last few minutes.
"You too," he replied just as softly. Their eyes met in a moment of complete understanding. Then Amidala blinked in the harsh midday light and the spell was broken. She leaned down to pick up a spare ruji basket and handed it to him.
"Here, you can make yourself useful and talk to me at the same time," she suggested.
"Oh, okay," came the reply, so casual, yet masking the young man's relief and pleasure. /She wants to talk to me!/ he thought with joy. "Are you sure it's allowed?"
"Yes. Traditionally only the Durinin women pick the First Harvest of ruji, but recently off-worlders of both sexes have been welcomed. I guess my Advisors didn't want to get their robes all sweaty, otherwise I'm sure they'd be down here helping," she answered with a grin.
Anakin smiled in returned, then took the woven pannier like it was a rare porcelain figurine, a rare gift generously given. He bent down to pull a ripe green pod from the low vine.
*****
They laboured side by side in the ruji field until the robed priests struck their large gongs, signalling the end of the First Harvest. Dusk was falling on the agricultural planet, pink and orange touching the eastern horizon like a Hujjorian watercolour.
Anakin and Amidala carried their full baskets up to the front steps before the assembled guests, emptying them onto the growing pile of ruji fruit there. Then they stood to one side and watched as the religious and secular leaders of the planet of Durinin took part in the final part of the harvest ceremony.
Anakin, respectfully silent as the incantations filled the evening air, thought about Amidala and how they'd talked all afternoon. It had been so long since they'd seen each other, nearly three years. He'd been entirely ensconced in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, learning his Padawan duties under his Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. She had been just as busy, carrying out her duties as head of state. Just as Anakin had been on countless missions with his Master, so too had Amidala embarked on innumerable state visits and conferences as Queen of the Naboo. Fate had decreed that they never travelled to the same places had the same time, though. But they'd kept in touch, weekly holo-transmissions sent back and forth across the galaxy with a devotion that her advisors and his Padawan friends joked about.
Anakin looked across at his friend in the deepening gloom. He was here with his Master to oversee some new peace accords. Amidala had helped hammer them out. Naboo was included in the agreement, as it was very near to Durinin and was a strong trading partner.
Someone lit a lantern and the soft light fell across Amidala's features, throwing one side of her face into shadow.
/She's even more beautiful than I remembered,/ he thought.
Seeming to sense his eyes on her, Amidala turned to him and smiled, rolling her eyes to show she too chafed at the interminable Durinin ritual for the Blessing of the Harvest. Then, the chanting ended and the assembled guests started to disperse. Anakin spotted his friend Juik amongst them, grinning at him like a fool. The young man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and made a crude gesture at the Padawan. Anakin shot him back a furious look and tried not to blush.
Returning his attention to the woman at his side, he realised for the first time that Amidala was without her handmaidens. Anakin scanned the crowd for the familiar cowled robes and quiet watchfulness, concerned about the safety of the Queen.
"Where...? " he started to ask her, but was cut short when she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the greenery.
"Wha...?"
A small hand clasped itself over his mouth and Amidala hissed in his ear.
"Shhhh! They'll find me!"
Recognising their old game of Hide-From-The-Handmaidens, Anakin relaxed and grinned, pushing away Amidala's hand and peering from their arboreal hide-out. He spied the five identical figures coming down the palace steps in search of their mistress, long orange and red robes falling in impeccably neat folds to the ground.
"Do you think they saw us?" he asked in a soft whisper, suddenly acutely aware of the places where her simple blue robe brushed his homespun and the faint scent of her familiar perfume.
Amidala looked at him mischievously.
"I hope not," she said, and turned to burrow her way out of the back of the hedge. He followed, emerging with leaves and twigs stuck in his blond curls.
Amidala laughed and reached up to pull them out. Anakin leaned down to let her, surprised to discover he now towered over the small Queen.
"I told the Fabulous Five to have the afternoon off. They weren't invited to help with the harvest anyway. But I was pretty sure they'd come looking for me anyway. And the bodyguards stayed on the terrace with the Royal Advisors," she explained.
Sticks and leaves removed, Anakin straightened. Screwing up his courage, he cleared his throat and indicated the winding pathway that led from the Durinin palace through its extensive gardens.
"Would you care to walk with me?" he asked, inwardly grimacing at the clumsy turn of phrase.
"Certainly," answered the brown-haired young woman who was busy brushing leaves off her own clothes. That done, she put her hand through his arm in a mockery of court etiquette.
"Lead the way."
*****
The lush green gardens of the royal residence on Durinin were alive with life in the long twilight. Insects buzzed and sang while the leaves of the green plants drooped under the weight of heavy dew. Small glow lamps lit the gravel pathway, making it a ribbon of pale light through the blue-grey of the evening.
"Won't they be worried about you?" Anakin ventured after a time.
Amidala shook her head.
"They'll know I have run off with you. No doubt your Master is having a serious discussion to Captain Panaka about my bad influence on his Padawan."
Anakin had to smile. "Probably," he conceded.
They walked a little further. He couldn't help himself, Anakin's worry manifested itself in one more question.
"You sure you don't have to be at some dinner function?"
"No!" Amidala patted his arm reassuringly. "The Royal Chancellor is sick and the Regent is off dealing with some local trouble. There is practically no one to have dinner with."
They reached a small lake, the newly-risen moon palely reflected in its still dark waters. Amidala's boisterous mood dissipated as she stared into its depths.
"Besides," she went on quietly, "I'd much rather be out here with you."
/And I with you,/ Anakin thought, but couldn't quite bring himself to say. Mentally he cursed himself for the attack of shyness.
Instead, he dropped Amidala's arm and waded into the water. He had spotted something underneath its placid surface.
Amidala took a seat on a nearby bench, raising her eyebrows but saying nothing. Presently, Anakin ceased his fishing around and emerged triumphant, holding forth a small white rock. He stood before Amidala, dripping wet and a look of such joy and hesitancy on his face she felt her heart wrench.
"It's a imrog stone," he explained, as if that should be obvious. "They're only found on the planets of this system. They have the ability to glow in the presence of the Force."
"Oh, how... interesting. And beautiful," said Amidala, reaching out to take the white gem from his outstretched hand.
She examined it while Anakin stood there, dripping and jubilant. A companionable silence grew between them and presently Anakin sat down next to her, content to just be in her company.
The cry of a native water bird floated to them from across the lake, and Anakin stirred from his thoughts.
"We should go back," he said, his tone conveying every ounce of the reluctance he felt.
"No!" said Amidala, her hand shooting across to rest on his arm as if she could prevent him from leaving. "That is, first, I want you to have this back."
She handed him the glowing imrog stone, its light forming a faint halo around his palm. Anakin looked at it in confusion, then up at her, pain in his eyes.
"Not because I don't want it, or don't appreciate it!" Amidala hurried to explain. "It's just that, you see... you have given me a gift already, remember?"
She reached into the neck of her robe and pulled out a leather necklace, its pendant a wedge of carved japor.
/She still wears it!/ Anakin thought in wonder.
"Oh," he replied, nodding vigorously. "Oh, well, that's ok. I'll just put this back where it belongs then."
He stood up to heave it back into the lake.
"No!" came the cry from beside him and Amidala jumped up, grabbing his extended arm. He looked at her questioningly.
"I... I was hoping..." she pursed her lips, suddenly shy. "I mean, I want you to have it. As a... well, if not a gift, then to remember me by." She studied her shoes for a moment, they had been ruined by the mud of the lake's shore.
/A token? Of remembrance?/
Before he could react, Amidala reached for his hands, taking the stone back and pressing it to her lips. She then took his hand and placed it back into his palm, wrapping his fingers over it with hers. After a moment, she took his other hand in her own as well.
Completely motionless, stilled by her touch, Anakin looked down at their intertwined fingers.
"Don't," he said before he could stop himself, and blushed furiously as soon as the words were out of his mouth.
"What?" asked Amidala, uncertainty making her voice waver.
"My hands are dirty," he replied lamely, quickly twisting his grease and oil stained hands away. Just as fast, Amidala grabbed them back.
"My hands are dirty too," she said, reminding him of the dirt and ruji sap still on her hands from the afternoon's work. She looked up into his clear blue eyes. "What are you afraid of?"
Anakin looked back, suddenly drowning in the depths of her gaze.
"I... I... I'm not sure," he whispered, afraid to voice his fears, his doubt.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," she whispered back. "It's just me, Amidala, Padme, your angel, remember?"
Memories flooded back and Anakin recalled with perfect clarity the first time he'd seen her in Watto's junkshop with the sand of the desert clinging to her clothes. She had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his miserable slave life. She still was.
"My angel..." Anakin breathed, his handhold tightening on hers, the imrog stone cradled in their combined grasp.
They stood there, held in the magic of the moment, eyes betraying all that words could not.
Then she lifted her chin slightly and he leaned down to kiss her in the full dark of the Durinin night.
The evening chorus of insects and night birds hushed as if in respect for the young pair.
They drew apart and Amidala dropped Anakin's hands to wrap her arms around his waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.
"Yes..." she whispered. "Yours. Forever."
Anakin didn't answer, just drew her into a tighter embrace and breathed in the scent of her hair.
~END~
Author: Xehra Bethe [email protected]
Rating: G
Setting: Post-TPM, Anakin is 17
Summary: Anakin is reunited with Amidala after a separation of three years. I think you can guess the rest.
Archive: Go right ahead
Feedback: Please!
Disclaimer: The GFFA and all the people in it belong to George. I receive no coin; I labour out of love.
Notes: / indicates inner thoughts.
Special Thanks: Go to TFN's first writing challenge for the bunny, though I haven't followed all the guidelines. Also to the girls at betas_anonymous for services rendered :)
~~~~~~~~
My Angel
~~~~~~~~
Anakin could hardly breathe with excitement as he rushed along the covered terrace. Reaching the end, he stopped, panting, to stand in the wan sunlight. His eyes searched among the throng of women working in the field below, seeking one particular figure, one he knew by sight almost as well as he knew her Force imprint. He distractedly wiped his grimy hands on his leggings. He hadn't stopped to wash off the grease and oil from the workshop when he'd heard. Still frantically hunting in the crowd for *her*, Anakin once again ran over in his head what his friend Juik had said after coming back from fetching them a late lunch.
"She's here, Ani. I just saw her over in the ruji field, helping with the ritual harvest. They say she only arrived this morning. Apparently her transport was late."
Anakin hadn't stopped to ask why, he'd simply thrown down his hydrospanner and rushed out of the transport bay. He'd been trying to fix one of the palace landspeeders, trying to occupy his mind since the news that *she* might not come at all. Today was a holiday on Durinin and his Master had released him from his duties to spend the day as he wished. He and his new friend Juik, one of the palace manservants, had decided to fix up a run-down old speeder and head out over the green fields in search of adventure. But plans changed, especially since *she* had shown up after all.
Anakin ran through and between the many white marble buildings of the palace complex towards the vast fields of ruji that stretched away from the northern side of the royal residence.
Giving up his visual search in despair, he reached out with the Force, searching for her unmistakable signature, that bright warmth that made him feel life was worth getting up every morning just to bathe in it...
There! Anakin found her, one woman amongst a hundred milling in the straight rows, taking part in the first ruji pick of the season. The First Harvest was under way and he remembered that it was the reason for today's holiday. He raced down the wide marble steps, past the assembled priests in their colourful robes, past the Naboo honour guard and plunged into the female melee. He could see her now, a simply-garbed figure slightly smaller than the native women, bending to pick up her woven basket full of the ripe green fruit.
And then he was right in front of her.
Anakin froze, momentarily terror-struck by his sudden proximity and only now realising the dozen or so protocols he had just broken.
She looked up.
"Anakin!" she said, her voice carrying a thousand nuances of surprise and pleasure. Anakin's heart skipped a beat as her features broke into a radiant smile.
"Hello Padme," he forced out, then fumbled for her correct title. "Er, I mean, Amidala, um... that is, Your Highnessness..." His eyes widened and his cheeks reddened as each word plunged him deeper and deeper into embarrassment.
/She laughed. Oh, thank the Force, she laughed./
"It's okay, Anakin. You, of all people, don't have to call me anything formal. Padme is fine, but my real name, you remember, is Amidala."
Anakin forced his mouth into a lop-sided smile and mumbled something in the affirmative.
The other women continued their work around the two, casting occasional quick, knowing glances at the Queen of Naboo and her young Jedi friend. Anakin could feel their amusement, and he shifted on his feet nervously, realising he was the only male in the rows.
Unexpectedly, Amidala placed her hand on his arm.
"It's good to see you," she said quietly. The genuine feeling she communicated made Anakin's stomach flip-flop for what felt like the fiftieth time in the last few minutes.
"You too," he replied just as softly. Their eyes met in a moment of complete understanding. Then Amidala blinked in the harsh midday light and the spell was broken. She leaned down to pick up a spare ruji basket and handed it to him.
"Here, you can make yourself useful and talk to me at the same time," she suggested.
"Oh, okay," came the reply, so casual, yet masking the young man's relief and pleasure. /She wants to talk to me!/ he thought with joy. "Are you sure it's allowed?"
"Yes. Traditionally only the Durinin women pick the First Harvest of ruji, but recently off-worlders of both sexes have been welcomed. I guess my Advisors didn't want to get their robes all sweaty, otherwise I'm sure they'd be down here helping," she answered with a grin.
Anakin smiled in returned, then took the woven pannier like it was a rare porcelain figurine, a rare gift generously given. He bent down to pull a ripe green pod from the low vine.
*****
They laboured side by side in the ruji field until the robed priests struck their large gongs, signalling the end of the First Harvest. Dusk was falling on the agricultural planet, pink and orange touching the eastern horizon like a Hujjorian watercolour.
Anakin and Amidala carried their full baskets up to the front steps before the assembled guests, emptying them onto the growing pile of ruji fruit there. Then they stood to one side and watched as the religious and secular leaders of the planet of Durinin took part in the final part of the harvest ceremony.
Anakin, respectfully silent as the incantations filled the evening air, thought about Amidala and how they'd talked all afternoon. It had been so long since they'd seen each other, nearly three years. He'd been entirely ensconced in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, learning his Padawan duties under his Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. She had been just as busy, carrying out her duties as head of state. Just as Anakin had been on countless missions with his Master, so too had Amidala embarked on innumerable state visits and conferences as Queen of the Naboo. Fate had decreed that they never travelled to the same places had the same time, though. But they'd kept in touch, weekly holo-transmissions sent back and forth across the galaxy with a devotion that her advisors and his Padawan friends joked about.
Anakin looked across at his friend in the deepening gloom. He was here with his Master to oversee some new peace accords. Amidala had helped hammer them out. Naboo was included in the agreement, as it was very near to Durinin and was a strong trading partner.
Someone lit a lantern and the soft light fell across Amidala's features, throwing one side of her face into shadow.
/She's even more beautiful than I remembered,/ he thought.
Seeming to sense his eyes on her, Amidala turned to him and smiled, rolling her eyes to show she too chafed at the interminable Durinin ritual for the Blessing of the Harvest. Then, the chanting ended and the assembled guests started to disperse. Anakin spotted his friend Juik amongst them, grinning at him like a fool. The young man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and made a crude gesture at the Padawan. Anakin shot him back a furious look and tried not to blush.
Returning his attention to the woman at his side, he realised for the first time that Amidala was without her handmaidens. Anakin scanned the crowd for the familiar cowled robes and quiet watchfulness, concerned about the safety of the Queen.
"Where...? " he started to ask her, but was cut short when she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the greenery.
"Wha...?"
A small hand clasped itself over his mouth and Amidala hissed in his ear.
"Shhhh! They'll find me!"
Recognising their old game of Hide-From-The-Handmaidens, Anakin relaxed and grinned, pushing away Amidala's hand and peering from their arboreal hide-out. He spied the five identical figures coming down the palace steps in search of their mistress, long orange and red robes falling in impeccably neat folds to the ground.
"Do you think they saw us?" he asked in a soft whisper, suddenly acutely aware of the places where her simple blue robe brushed his homespun and the faint scent of her familiar perfume.
Amidala looked at him mischievously.
"I hope not," she said, and turned to burrow her way out of the back of the hedge. He followed, emerging with leaves and twigs stuck in his blond curls.
Amidala laughed and reached up to pull them out. Anakin leaned down to let her, surprised to discover he now towered over the small Queen.
"I told the Fabulous Five to have the afternoon off. They weren't invited to help with the harvest anyway. But I was pretty sure they'd come looking for me anyway. And the bodyguards stayed on the terrace with the Royal Advisors," she explained.
Sticks and leaves removed, Anakin straightened. Screwing up his courage, he cleared his throat and indicated the winding pathway that led from the Durinin palace through its extensive gardens.
"Would you care to walk with me?" he asked, inwardly grimacing at the clumsy turn of phrase.
"Certainly," answered the brown-haired young woman who was busy brushing leaves off her own clothes. That done, she put her hand through his arm in a mockery of court etiquette.
"Lead the way."
*****
The lush green gardens of the royal residence on Durinin were alive with life in the long twilight. Insects buzzed and sang while the leaves of the green plants drooped under the weight of heavy dew. Small glow lamps lit the gravel pathway, making it a ribbon of pale light through the blue-grey of the evening.
"Won't they be worried about you?" Anakin ventured after a time.
Amidala shook her head.
"They'll know I have run off with you. No doubt your Master is having a serious discussion to Captain Panaka about my bad influence on his Padawan."
Anakin had to smile. "Probably," he conceded.
They walked a little further. He couldn't help himself, Anakin's worry manifested itself in one more question.
"You sure you don't have to be at some dinner function?"
"No!" Amidala patted his arm reassuringly. "The Royal Chancellor is sick and the Regent is off dealing with some local trouble. There is practically no one to have dinner with."
They reached a small lake, the newly-risen moon palely reflected in its still dark waters. Amidala's boisterous mood dissipated as she stared into its depths.
"Besides," she went on quietly, "I'd much rather be out here with you."
/And I with you,/ Anakin thought, but couldn't quite bring himself to say. Mentally he cursed himself for the attack of shyness.
Instead, he dropped Amidala's arm and waded into the water. He had spotted something underneath its placid surface.
Amidala took a seat on a nearby bench, raising her eyebrows but saying nothing. Presently, Anakin ceased his fishing around and emerged triumphant, holding forth a small white rock. He stood before Amidala, dripping wet and a look of such joy and hesitancy on his face she felt her heart wrench.
"It's a imrog stone," he explained, as if that should be obvious. "They're only found on the planets of this system. They have the ability to glow in the presence of the Force."
"Oh, how... interesting. And beautiful," said Amidala, reaching out to take the white gem from his outstretched hand.
She examined it while Anakin stood there, dripping and jubilant. A companionable silence grew between them and presently Anakin sat down next to her, content to just be in her company.
The cry of a native water bird floated to them from across the lake, and Anakin stirred from his thoughts.
"We should go back," he said, his tone conveying every ounce of the reluctance he felt.
"No!" said Amidala, her hand shooting across to rest on his arm as if she could prevent him from leaving. "That is, first, I want you to have this back."
She handed him the glowing imrog stone, its light forming a faint halo around his palm. Anakin looked at it in confusion, then up at her, pain in his eyes.
"Not because I don't want it, or don't appreciate it!" Amidala hurried to explain. "It's just that, you see... you have given me a gift already, remember?"
She reached into the neck of her robe and pulled out a leather necklace, its pendant a wedge of carved japor.
/She still wears it!/ Anakin thought in wonder.
"Oh," he replied, nodding vigorously. "Oh, well, that's ok. I'll just put this back where it belongs then."
He stood up to heave it back into the lake.
"No!" came the cry from beside him and Amidala jumped up, grabbing his extended arm. He looked at her questioningly.
"I... I was hoping..." she pursed her lips, suddenly shy. "I mean, I want you to have it. As a... well, if not a gift, then to remember me by." She studied her shoes for a moment, they had been ruined by the mud of the lake's shore.
/A token? Of remembrance?/
Before he could react, Amidala reached for his hands, taking the stone back and pressing it to her lips. She then took his hand and placed it back into his palm, wrapping his fingers over it with hers. After a moment, she took his other hand in her own as well.
Completely motionless, stilled by her touch, Anakin looked down at their intertwined fingers.
"Don't," he said before he could stop himself, and blushed furiously as soon as the words were out of his mouth.
"What?" asked Amidala, uncertainty making her voice waver.
"My hands are dirty," he replied lamely, quickly twisting his grease and oil stained hands away. Just as fast, Amidala grabbed them back.
"My hands are dirty too," she said, reminding him of the dirt and ruji sap still on her hands from the afternoon's work. She looked up into his clear blue eyes. "What are you afraid of?"
Anakin looked back, suddenly drowning in the depths of her gaze.
"I... I... I'm not sure," he whispered, afraid to voice his fears, his doubt.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," she whispered back. "It's just me, Amidala, Padme, your angel, remember?"
Memories flooded back and Anakin recalled with perfect clarity the first time he'd seen her in Watto's junkshop with the sand of the desert clinging to her clothes. She had been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his miserable slave life. She still was.
"My angel..." Anakin breathed, his handhold tightening on hers, the imrog stone cradled in their combined grasp.
They stood there, held in the magic of the moment, eyes betraying all that words could not.
Then she lifted her chin slightly and he leaned down to kiss her in the full dark of the Durinin night.
The evening chorus of insects and night birds hushed as if in respect for the young pair.
They drew apart and Amidala dropped Anakin's hands to wrap her arms around his waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.
"Yes..." she whispered. "Yours. Forever."
Anakin didn't answer, just drew her into a tighter embrace and breathed in the scent of her hair.
~END~