Vision Quested

"Are you an angel?"

Those words, that innocent question...

Tenderly uttered by an impressionable young boy, a long, long time ago, back on Tatooine when he was a slave, and she, a vision in the flesh who had glowed before him amidst the broken down, lackluster relics of the shop he had once toiled in.

After all this time, it was those words which still echoed within his mind as they stood together, joined at the hands. Held fast by the strength of two hearts overflowing with passionate love.

Yes, he'd been that industrious, plucky slave. That hearty sand-whipped soul who had seemingly no hope of a promising future, his true abilities as yet unrealized.

The answer to that eternal question was abundantly obvious as his blushing young bride's lips warmed his once more.

Anakin drew his quixotic face away from her lovely one. The face he'd dreamed about every night since laying eyes on her. Deeply, he smiled into her smoldering dark brown ones, and she returned the depth of his urgency. The rustle of her silken lace taffeta headdress matched the delicate fragrance which clung to her soft, luxuriant hair.

He struggled to breathe. It was always the same whenever she was near. Her radiance, made the simple exercise of breathing in, breathing out, toil.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the droids watching them, and he sensed their curiosity, and something else...

As unbelievable as it may have seemed, waves of approval radiated from the amazing machines. No, surely not mere machines. Padme's and his photoreceptive witnesses to the private nuptials. R2-D2 and C-P3O, staunchly, their loyal friends...

From the high Bramantesque terrace, the expansive lake was so tranquil, so lambent, mirroring the regal beauty of the majestic mountains that surrounded the deep body of sky blue water. A long trailing cloud swaddled the nearest summit. It was the ideal setting for a perfect honeymoon.

"I love you, Ani," was carried upon the gentle breeze. Padme guided his hands to her waist and Anakin moved her body in closer to his. Only for a moment did the idea of his hand and forearm now molded to her waist, and artificial, upset him. Might she deem him less of a man because of the loss by virtue of callous butchery?

From the depths of his mind, Master Yoda's sage tenets, warning of the feelings which paved the way to the 'dark side,' fondled his patterns of thought and feelings still in formative stages.

'Do...or do not. There is no try...'

'Thank you, Master Yoda. I choose not to give into the suffocation of self-doubt,' Anakin spoke sincerely through the Force, with his mind, to the sagacious Jedi doyen scores upon scores of parsecs away on Coruscant.

Padme imagined he was voicelessly invoking a special prayer of blessing on their behalf.

The pain of the loss of Shmi was acute still, but wonderously, Padme's love had already worked such wonders, blunting the sharp edges of irredeemable loss.

"I love you too, Pady...truly, deeply." He lined his forehead up against hers, but struggled nevertheless to mask the shame that had rippled through his soul. The shame which clung to him still over the Tuskan Raiders massacre on the outskirts of Anchorhead, in the Jundland Wastes. "Forever."

He had neglected to tell Padme that he'd even slaughtered their docile Banthas along with their vicious mongrels.

Her hands flowed up past his neck where her wrists crossed behind his head. "I love you openly, without any reservations. It was crazy to think we could deny our feelings. Worse still...ignore them."

"Completely impossible. Even the Force could never prevent that." He thought back to the fierce battle waged on the arid world of Geonosis, now thinking that if Obi-Wan hadn't clamped down on his arm while aboard the Stinger transport when he had, and had called him to his senses, forcing him to admit what Padme would have done in his situation, he'd been seconds away from jumping out to get back to her. Only to be barred from the ecletic Jedi order before being allowed to become one of its members.

Gently, Anakin molded his hand to the side of his beautiful young bride's winsome face, drinking in the gravity of her look; the propensity of her feelings for him which consumed her.

She was his wife, he her husband, and they would be together for as long as they lived. They had sworn this to each other.

"What we've done here today was the wisest thing. The only logical thing to be done," she murmured against his supple cheek with her eyes closed, seeing him, in her mind's eye, battling valiently in that enormous arena against the fleshly and metallic barrages of all lethal comers.

His sword wizardry arrested her breath, possessively catching it away, each time he seized hold of his lightsaber and dazzled her to newer heights of devotion. He was so brave, and strong, so undaunted, and the handsomest man there could ever be.

She would never leave his side. It had been in that foul arena, the stench of which had been suffocating by so much wanton destruction, that she knew it was her destiny to be his for all time.

After she had thought that, she caught Anakin grinning that affecting toothy grin that severely weakened her knees.

Taking a final look at the stately scenery, that was dimming with the onset of deep rosey shades of dusk, the bemused couple turned away from the beguiling panorama of natural splendor as one. Anakin meshed the fingers of his real hand with Padme's willing gracefully-tapered ones, and her heart beat wildly. She could prevent herself from thinking what their first time was going to be like.

He sensed her hesitation, her uncertainty. The anticipation laced with mild apprehension, and saw the gradual, telltale stain of self- consciousness seep beyond her neck, into her cheeks. In a soft, calm voice he reassured her, "I know. Believe me. I understand, and I will be. It's my first time too. I'll never hurt you. We're so right for each other, Pady. We'll be magic."

Padme returned the squeeze of his hand, and lost herself in his sultry, yet comforting eyes for as many times this never-to-be-repeated day. "I love you, Ani, my dearest. I shall, always."

Anakin's arms barricaded her, and applying somewhat more pressure than previously, he pressed her to himself. While in the throes of the feverish embrace he vowed, "You are my heart, Pady, my very life. I pledge to you. No matter what the future holds for us, we'll be together... Always. This I promise, never to take back."

Sweeping his bride, who was no longer blushing, up into his arms, he kissed her temple and headed for his adjoining bedchamber, now theirs. Once over the threshold, the twin, stately glass-paned doors slowly closed behind them, gently guided by the Force.

The Nabooian sun had already begun making its leisurely, but inexorable southern descent.

R2-D2 started off determindly in that direction, but was swiftly cut off by a highly agitated C-3PO.

"No, R2," the gleaming, highly-buffed droid barked, with its usual sharpness whenever the diminutive droid got beside itself, taking too much upon itself. "They won't be needing our services, I can assure you." The squat, feisty droid demanded to know why not, and just as testily, 'Goldenrod' responded, "You will *never* understand human behavior. And never you mind what it is they are doing. Now, come along, R2, this is one of those uniquely human instances where they'll get along just fine without us. Most splendidly, to be sure."

The little droid hooted something snide, which irritated the 'stickler's' circuitry, and the put-upon counterpart merely ushered the astrodroid, protocol-correctedly, of course, in the most opposite direction that could be taken, giving the honeymoom suite the widest berth technically possible.


End (for now...)