A short snippet inspired by @skywalkr-nberrie's post with the headcanon that Padmé would love to watch Anakin train his saber skills and capture holo-pics of him sneakily
The sky was clear today. On the backdrop of white-blue clouds were the shadows of birds flying and chirping. The grass swished in its place courtesy of the light breeze invading the late summer sun. Varykino's gardens still glistened with last night's surprise downpour. And among the wet gardens was her husband, back glistening more than the combined greenery around him.
Padmé appreciated that her husband never skipped his morning training, not even after tiring, delicious nights. She appreciated it even more when she was able to witness said training.
Elegant yet dangerous, Padmé mused, licking her lips. Anakin made for such a beautiful sight this morning — body bending in graceful arcs, confident arms allowing his saber to become an extension of him.
Bare from waist up but clad in loose pants and booted, sunlight reflecting off of his sweaty skin, his visage was of the dawn itself, preparing to cast its light on the world.
Beckoned by the new rippling of muscles along his sculpted back, Padmé leaned forward as Anakin shifted his stance, saber now extended to his side, held by equally sculpted biceps and the contrasting, ungloved mechno-arm. The arm had been upgraded a while ago by Anakin himself, talented as he was. It now resembled his bulked up organic one in shape, barring anything actually natural.
If Padmé was honest, the contrast affected her in ways she never would have fathomed herself being affected. Ways she was getting eager to explore once more as Anakin continued his exercises. The stone of the balustrade rubbed against her arm lightly as she shifted, memories of the previous night sparking once again.
The feel of skin and metal against her back as her husband held her tightly in his lap, rolling his hips and meeting her enthusiastic ones with strength only he was capable of. The feel of his muscled chest, currently heaving for reasons she had no contribution in, that had then slid against her slick back again and again, his thrusts gaining impact with each one. The feel of clutching his metal wrist in one hand as the other wrapped around his organic one, the one that was insistent on extracting the aftershocks of her orgasm from between her thighs — thighs she could still recall locked around the length of his forearm, riding his fingers for dear life. That had been the first of the night too..
Oh. Oh. Oh, she wanted him now. Very much so. Right about now.
But she didn’t want to disturb him. He appeared truly immersed in his practice and she would hate to take anything that replaces meditation for him away, knowing how the Jedi mandated one came so sparsely to him.
Focusing on her husband once again, she found him moving into a wide-legged stance, gliding into it really. Padmé sighed. Anakin truly had a beautiful form. She liked to imagine if the carved statues of those ancient male warriors could come to life, they would move similarly. She wanted to capture him this way.
Suddenly, an idea popped in her head and Padmé went to fetch her camera. The least she got out of this morning would definitely be delicious holo-pics of her husband. She was, by no means, talented with one but she liked to think that Anakin was such an aesthetic subject, an errant shot from her won’t be enough to diminish his captured form.
When she reappeared, Anakin was still engrossed in his practice and Padmé prepared to collect some rewards for her patience.
She began her endeavour, managing to capture some of the most gorgeous moments of the mild morning. In one, Anakin’s stubborn curl had fallen just right on his forehead, the sandy strands catching against the light. In another, his abdominal muscles had rippled elegantly with a vicious slash of his saber against the air. And some more that were the ones for her private office.
Padmé rejoiced in her success as she continued recording footage to play for herself later. It didn’t hurt that Anakin’s moves had become rather deliberate and slow, the stances held intact longer. Interesting. Though she had never witnessed this shift in his previous practices, she didn’t dwell on it much for it was longer the merrier for her.
At present, his back was facing her again as the saber swooped down to cut through the air in front. It was a slow descent and the recorder zoomed in on his right leg sliding forward accordingly. Until it all paused midway and the fighting form of her husband froze.
Hmm, what? Padmé wondered but didn’t relent. Maybe she’ll catch her husband in an awkward situation and tease him with proof later. Her musings vanished when Anakin turned around swiftly without any prior notice and met her gaze right through the lens.
Padmé blushed. Oops, caught.
When Anakin stretched, set the saber back by his hip, and began trekking back to her, Padmé dropped the device from her face and met his mirthful eyes, a sparkle of mischief adding itself to the somehow still intense glint. Amusement radiated off of him as he stopped below the protruding balcony, peering up at her with upturned lips. She wanted to kiss the way they were slightly parted from exertion, eat up his huffing breaths with her tongue —
“Recording someone without their permission, Senator?”, Anakin asked, intruding on her salacious thoughts with the rhetorical question. It was the light, dry voice of his, meant to tease and cajole. Knowing she could just beckon him to her place of standing with her fingers, Padmé opted to answer the knight.
“I didn’t think you would mind, General.”
Having all the idea in the galaxy what his war designation, spoken in the provocative way she did, did to her husband, Padmé emphasised it with careful lips, adding just the correct amount of pouting down at him to enforce her innocence. She made sure to lean against the stone railing on her arms at enough of an angle to flash her cleavage to the Jedi.
Anakin chuckled at her playfulness, the sound rolling off her heart warmly. Palming his side in an exaggerated gesture, he adopted a mock-stern expression that didn’t appear out of place on his young face.
“Well, you thought wrong. You should hand them over to me”, Anakin informed her but his tone was the opposite of stern. It was low and inviting, sending a shiver down her spine.
It was Padmé’s turn to chuckle. A game then. Anakin seemed fond of those. Puckering her lips and scowling for extra measure, Padmé denied his request. “They are precious to me”, Padmé spoke, clutching the device closer, but then blinked. Evoking her most alluring voice, she asked him, “Perhaps, you can let this once go?”
If her arms had tightened to highlight her cleavage further and entice her husband faster, then it was nobody’s business but theirs. And oh, enticed he did appear, eyes straying to her breasts and staying there for a fervent second before rushing up to hers again. His adam’s apple bobbed in a visible swallow.
“You ask so sweetly, Senator.”, Anakin began, becoming purringly gentle yet sure as he continued, “Nevertheless, I am afraid I can’t allow you this indulgence.”
Her mouth twitched at his attempt at formality, dramatically bolstered with hands folding behind his back and shoulders going firm. But oh was he enjoying this, the tilted smirk giving him away. Mirroring his expression, Padmé issued the challenge and prepared to dash, stepping away from the balustrade even as she spoke.
“Then you would have to catch me first, General.”
She knew her eyes were triumphant as she looked down, both at the swear leaving Anakin’s lips at her deliberate use of words and at the ground and height she currently had on him. But they soon widened and panicked when he took two, three steps back and crouched.
Not waiting for him to catch up to her, Padmé fled to the balcony doors, her nightgown swishing around her legs. Goosebumps rose on her skin when she turned and spied Anakin hot on her heels, eyes smiling yet intent. When did he land? She hadn’t even heard a step.
As she added more fuel to her efforts, she couldn’t help the delightful laughs beginning to escape her. Oh, how she treasured these times, so far and few in between all their missions. When they could just be lost in each other and chase each other’s laughter.
Just as she was about to reach the double doors, a hand snaked around her waist, pulling her into the bare chest she had been craving all morning. Soft lips descended on her skin, sprinkling tiny kisses from her neck to her shoulder and back before settling by her ear and breathing his sweet victory into it.
“I believe I have caught you, Senator.”
