FIC: Career Options (Anakin, Padme)
Oct. 14th, 2005 11:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
winterFandom: Star Wars
Genre: Spamfic
Warning: Codeine influence. Anakin in tight black clothes.
CAREER OPTIONS
The white muslin nightdress, Padmé decided as she posed in front of the mirror, was her favourite. It was a pity that it would probably get too worn to be worthy of her wardrobe before Anakin made it back from the outer rim. The thin material was just see-through enough, the v-shaped neckline highlighted her assets, and the ruffles gave a softness to her figure.
Hmm. Was she gaining weight?
No matter. The nightdress showed her off to her best advantage either way. Though maybe she looked too innocent. Like a child in white. Blue might work better with her skin and hair.
She shook her head. “I wonder what Anakin would say,” she whispered.
“That you look delectable.”
Padmé jumped as a leather-gloved hand touched her face. She turned around, anger and happiness vying for first place in her face. The happiness won.
“Anakin!” she exclaimed. “How did you get in? Threepio didn’t say anything.”
His hand slid from her cheek to her neck. His grin was infectious. “You shouldn’t sleep with the balcony doors open, Padmé. You never know what’s lurking in the dark.”
“You, usually.”
She tried to kiss him, but he moved away, still with that mischievous smile. She noticed that he wasn’t wearing his Jedi robes, but a black outfit that was probably the reason she hadn’t seen him in the mirror. The civilian clothes did look good on him, especially since instead of opulent Coruscant fashions he had opted for a close-fitting look that, when complete with the cape she saw resting on a chair, would probably have fit a member of the Serenno senator’s entourage-
She forced her mind off how good Anakin looked and back on important things. More important things. “How did they let you come back to Coruscant? And how did you manage to come here right away – won’t Obi-Wan be looking for you?”
“Obi-Wan...” Anakin waved his hand in a non-committal way. “He knows what I’m doing.”
Padmé gasped. “He knows?”
“I was tired of hiding things. Hiding what I feel, who I am – why should I?” Anakin started pacing around the room. “Why should I control myself and do what others tell me?”
Oh, not again. “Anakin, the Jedi are your life.”
He whirled, the strands of his hair settling like a dim halo around his face, and for a moment his eyes seemed to glow red. “You are my life, Padmé. You, Obi-Wan, the Force. That is all I need. Did the world ever make us happy? Did the Republic? It's all just duty and chains!”
“It’s all we have.” Padmé considered distraction tactics. She could call Chancellor Palpatine, who usually managed to calm Anakin down from one of these rages. Or she could just drop the nightdress. The latter option was particularly appealing. Was it the light, or was Anakin lither, paler, more appealing than he’d been before?
“That’s not what Dooku says,” Anakin muttered petulantly.
Padmé frowned. “Anakin, when have you been talking to Dooku?”
Anakin sighed and flopped down on the couch. “We ran him down on one of the moons of Yavin. We talked.”
“You should know better than to do this. He’s subversive, insidious and treacherous. You cannot trust a word he says.” Padmé carefully repressed memories of her first months in the Senate and a series of perfumed notes she had sent to a certain member of the Serenno delegation. She was relieved that Dooku was at least gentleman enough to burn the evidence of her childish foolishness. “He turns everything into lies.”
“You sound like Obi-Wan.” Anakin glared at her. “And Dooku’s a much better Master than Obi-Wan ever was.”
Black clothes. Paleness. Strange eyes. Dark Side talking, to the point of telling Obi-Wan about them. And now this. Padmé was not stupid, unless you counted the moments when hormones overrode her brain, but fortunately this was not that time of the month.
She gasped and edged towards the case that held her blaster. Before she took three steps, Anakin was upon her, pinning her to a wall with his hand on her throat.
His left hand, and so cold.
“Don’t turn away from me, Padmé,” he whispered. Then he smiled. “Everything will be fine now. We’ll make sure of it.”
“You and Dooku?” she choked out.
He nodded, smiled again. Were his teeth always that long?
“Anakin, you’re a Sith!” she hissed.
He shook his head. “Vampire. Much cooler.”
* * *
The Sith Lord’s Handbook was a communal effort of generations of Sith Masters. Now Palpatine added a new rule to it.
When accepting an Apprentice who comes to you by himself, and then sending him to get killed by a very powerful and volatile Jedi you want to have for a new Apprentice, make sure the former is human. Especially if he looks ten times as handsome as you while also being two times older.
He took a look around. Garlic. Silver. Wooden stakes. Holy objects from at least fifteen different religions.
Outside his chambers, red eyes glinted in the darkness.
It was going to be a long night.
Genre: Spamfic
Warning: Codeine influence. Anakin in tight black clothes.
CAREER OPTIONS
The white muslin nightdress, Padmé decided as she posed in front of the mirror, was her favourite. It was a pity that it would probably get too worn to be worthy of her wardrobe before Anakin made it back from the outer rim. The thin material was just see-through enough, the v-shaped neckline highlighted her assets, and the ruffles gave a softness to her figure.
Hmm. Was she gaining weight?
No matter. The nightdress showed her off to her best advantage either way. Though maybe she looked too innocent. Like a child in white. Blue might work better with her skin and hair.
She shook her head. “I wonder what Anakin would say,” she whispered.
“That you look delectable.”
Padmé jumped as a leather-gloved hand touched her face. She turned around, anger and happiness vying for first place in her face. The happiness won.
“Anakin!” she exclaimed. “How did you get in? Threepio didn’t say anything.”
His hand slid from her cheek to her neck. His grin was infectious. “You shouldn’t sleep with the balcony doors open, Padmé. You never know what’s lurking in the dark.”
“You, usually.”
She tried to kiss him, but he moved away, still with that mischievous smile. She noticed that he wasn’t wearing his Jedi robes, but a black outfit that was probably the reason she hadn’t seen him in the mirror. The civilian clothes did look good on him, especially since instead of opulent Coruscant fashions he had opted for a close-fitting look that, when complete with the cape she saw resting on a chair, would probably have fit a member of the Serenno senator’s entourage-
She forced her mind off how good Anakin looked and back on important things. More important things. “How did they let you come back to Coruscant? And how did you manage to come here right away – won’t Obi-Wan be looking for you?”
“Obi-Wan...” Anakin waved his hand in a non-committal way. “He knows what I’m doing.”
Padmé gasped. “He knows?”
“I was tired of hiding things. Hiding what I feel, who I am – why should I?” Anakin started pacing around the room. “Why should I control myself and do what others tell me?”
Oh, not again. “Anakin, the Jedi are your life.”
He whirled, the strands of his hair settling like a dim halo around his face, and for a moment his eyes seemed to glow red. “You are my life, Padmé. You, Obi-Wan, the Force. That is all I need. Did the world ever make us happy? Did the Republic? It's all just duty and chains!”
“It’s all we have.” Padmé considered distraction tactics. She could call Chancellor Palpatine, who usually managed to calm Anakin down from one of these rages. Or she could just drop the nightdress. The latter option was particularly appealing. Was it the light, or was Anakin lither, paler, more appealing than he’d been before?
“That’s not what Dooku says,” Anakin muttered petulantly.
Padmé frowned. “Anakin, when have you been talking to Dooku?”
Anakin sighed and flopped down on the couch. “We ran him down on one of the moons of Yavin. We talked.”
“You should know better than to do this. He’s subversive, insidious and treacherous. You cannot trust a word he says.” Padmé carefully repressed memories of her first months in the Senate and a series of perfumed notes she had sent to a certain member of the Serenno delegation. She was relieved that Dooku was at least gentleman enough to burn the evidence of her childish foolishness. “He turns everything into lies.”
“You sound like Obi-Wan.” Anakin glared at her. “And Dooku’s a much better Master than Obi-Wan ever was.”
Black clothes. Paleness. Strange eyes. Dark Side talking, to the point of telling Obi-Wan about them. And now this. Padmé was not stupid, unless you counted the moments when hormones overrode her brain, but fortunately this was not that time of the month.
She gasped and edged towards the case that held her blaster. Before she took three steps, Anakin was upon her, pinning her to a wall with his hand on her throat.
His left hand, and so cold.
“Don’t turn away from me, Padmé,” he whispered. Then he smiled. “Everything will be fine now. We’ll make sure of it.”
“You and Dooku?” she choked out.
He nodded, smiled again. Were his teeth always that long?
“Anakin, you’re a Sith!” she hissed.
He shook his head. “Vampire. Much cooler.”
* * *
The Sith Lord’s Handbook was a communal effort of generations of Sith Masters. Now Palpatine added a new rule to it.
When accepting an Apprentice who comes to you by himself, and then sending him to get killed by a very powerful and volatile Jedi you want to have for a new Apprentice, make sure the former is human. Especially if he looks ten times as handsome as you while also being two times older.
He took a look around. Garlic. Silver. Wooden stakes. Holy objects from at least fifteen different religions.
Outside his chambers, red eyes glinted in the darkness.
It was going to be a long night.
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Date: 2005-10-14 06:07 am (UTC)