Fic!

[matril]

I wrote this a while ago, just a bit of angst-drenched AOTC stuff, but I felt like posting it now - it's been a while since I've worked on anything new, and maybe this will get me moving again. I've been laboring on my original novel, and it's going pretty well, but sometimes I need to step back and write something else entirely. :)

Nothing Else

So they were about to die.

Padmé had heard of having one’s life pass before one’s eyes at the moment of death, and expected her mind to be filled with images of her childhood, of her family and of the halls of Theed Palace. It startled, her, then, that it was Anakin who flooded nearly every thought. He had been in her life for such a brief time, even counting their first meeting as children, and yet it was his face she saw when she closed her eyes and mourned what she would leave behind upon dying. How had he become so important to her? The bedraggled, straw-haired boy on Tatooine, full of impossible dreams...the young Padawan, still a bit awkward but so anxious to please...pouring out his frustrations and worries to her as if nothing in the world were so natural as for her to be his confidant...

And somehow it had felt right to her as well, to listen and empathize and commiserate...so natural that she had become wary, told him to made her uncomfortable, though what really made her uncomfortable was just how comfortable she felt around someone who ought to be little better than a stranger...

Every moment together she had felt the attachment grow stronger, no matter how she denied it, pushed it off as if ignoring it would make it go away. On Naboo he had silently asked to kiss her, and she had found herself glad to accept. The sensation of his lips on hers still lingered, days later, and she regretted cutting the kiss short.

Regret. That was what troubled her most at this moment of death. Not regret that she hadn’t prevented her death; she could face her execution with her head high, unafraid of whatever cowardly tortures they would inflict upon her. No, her regret was entirely regarding Anakin. Lost kisses, lost embraces...lost chances.

All her practical objections and reservations were mere dust in the face of this, the prospect of dying without ever sharing another moment with him, without finding the fulfillment, the completeness, of accepting her love for him.

Her life before her eyes. Her life was Anakin. His smile, his touch, his voice. Even now, as he spoke softly to her, she felt her heartbeat quicken, her whole frame filled with longing.

“I’m not afraid to die,” she whispered. Without him, life was no more than walking death. “I’ve been dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life.”

“What are you talking about?” His bemusement made her ache to hold him.

“I love you.”

He blinked. “You – love me?” Not without bitterness, he recalled her former words, her dismissal of his raw, unpolished pleas. “I thought we had decided not to fall in love. That we’d be forced to live a lie. That it would destroy our lives.”

“It looks like our lives are about to be destroyed anyway.” Weary of objections that had come from her own mouth, she leaned closer. “I truly...deeply...love you. And before we die I want you to know.”

No more objections came from Anakin’s lips. As they were carried forward into the arena, they joined in a final kiss. And Padmé knew that this was the memory she would carry to the grave, Anakin and nothing else.

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