#love u padmom and dadakin

[zoryany]

Anidala tarot card prompt!

send me a card and / or character(s) or a ship, and I’ll write a ficlet based around one or more words associated with a tarot card The Empress: fertility, natural world, beauty, dependence on others

The lake was calm and serene, the air was warm and still, and a pair of lovers shared a rare moment of peace and serenity. Both knew, truly, how precious days like this truly were. Naturally, when they were gifted with this time together, they were certain to take advantage of it as much as possible; it was another gift entirely, though, to simply enjoy each others’ company, be it embroiled in passionate conversation or settled into a comfortable silence.

Neatly set within the latter, they sat together on a cushioned sofa that overlooked the lake, her head nestled in his neck, his arm draped over her shoulders. He traced lazy patterns on her shoulder with his thumb, content just to feel the warmth of her against him. She, too, was comforted by the heat of him, reminiscent of the desert world on which they had first met, but mingled with the serenity of her own home.

Between them, the silence passed in continued contentment, but a certain level of restlessness gripped them both. In most circumstances, he was the one to break the stagnation; on this occasion, already so rare, something even more rare occurred – she was the one to speak up.

“Ani…” That soft voice of hers was so melodic, chiming in harmony with the universe, echoing through him and weaving its way through his soul in the same way the Force seemed to. “I hope this doesn’t feel like it’s coming out of nowhere, but… well. Before you arrived I… I visited my sister – you remember Sola?” Today was a day of rarities, for not only were they in a state of relative peace, but she – well-spoken, political genius that she was – had become nearly… speechless. She stuttered, she seemed hesitant, and it only made her seem more perfect to him. She was his rock, his universe, and he could not imagine what his life would be otherwise. “Of course you do. Well, my nieces – Ryoo and Pooja – they were… overjoyed to see me and… Ani, have you ever considered having children?”

She was his wife. They’d been married on this very estate just two short years earlier. At this point, he could not imagine his life otherwise. But… children… “I – can’t say that I have.”

“Oh.”

The shift in her was sudden, and Anakin didn’t need the Force to know just how disappointed she was at that. He shifted to face her, resting one hand (his right) on her shoulder and using the other (his left) to cup her cheek. “I just meant that it had never occurred to me, but that’s only because of The Order, Padmé. You know they wouldn’t approve – and just think of what Obi-wan would say!” She chuckled lightly, his own laughter chorusing hers. The stern, Coruscanti accent of his former Master echoed in their thoughts, delivering how they both pictured his admonishment would sound.

Padmé relaxed into his touch and offered him a warm, genuine smile. “Oh, I don’t know, I think he’d be rather pleased, once he got over the initial shock. Personally, I’ve always thought he’s much softer than he lets on.”

Anakin let out a somewhat wry bark of laughter, but he was careful not to let it overshadow the connection he currently shared with his wife. “I’m not so sure about that.”

The light still shone in her eyes, but Padmé’s smile faded. Her delicate grip curled around the hand he had resting on her cheek – her flesh to his – and though she was no longer meeting his gaze, Anakin felt a fresh wave of warmth bloom in his chest. Her eyes were fixed intently on their entwined fingers, her thumb rubbing absent circles across his knuckles. Taking in a slow, deep breath, she hesitated before finally flicking her eyes back up to meet his.

(Every time he met them, no matter how many times he’d done it before, Anakin was certain he would get lost in the seemingly endless fathoms of their deep, warm brown.)

“Despite what The Order says, despite what Obi-wan would say, despite what anyone else would say… What do you want, Ani?” Her voice so easily lent itself to passion while still maintaining control. It made her Senate speeches as effective as they were, it endeared her so greatly to her people. Anakin admired it, truly, but the words themselves struck a resounding chord within him; she wanted to know – she genuinely cared about – what he thought. “Because I can tell you what I want, what I hope for, but… we are in this together, and I don’t care what the galaxy thinks. I care what you think.”

It made him fall in love with her all over again.

Sliding his (right, mechanical) hand from her shoulder to the back of her head, he pulled her towards him and laid a kiss on her forehead. With her, he could always find the perfect balance between gentle and passionate, a true liberation of his emotions. “Padmé,” he nearly whispered, “I may not have given it any thought before, but the idea of having children with you… I haven’t felt this much joy since the day we were married. You are my everything, my sun, moon and stars, and the least I can do is give you my word that I will love and protect any child I father with you as fiercely as I would their mother.”

And that was a promise he intended to keep. She could sense it as strongly as she could sense his love, and she clung to those words as deeply as she clung to her devotion to him, right up until the moment of her death.

(The Force works in mysterious ways, however, and Anakin’s fate was to both break and keep this promise in ways neither parent could possibly predict.)