Queen Takes Knight (PocketFullOfPosies)

[As Day Fades]

(This is a roleplay based in the Star Wars world.)


"Are they all to be this long, Master?'

"Be thankful," Obi-Wan replied with a half-smile, half-smirk, "four and a half months isn't as long as some."

"It's longer than most."

The cloud car soared gracefully through the darkened sky of Coruscant, floating through the Imperial City with ease. This late at night it wasn't quiet, the Imperial City never truly sleeping, but if you could navigate its trafficked skies during the day you could navigate nearly anywhere. "Most we've been lucky enough to be assigned to, sure. More than once when I was a padawan Master Qui-Gon and I were sent on missions by the council that could last up to a year."

"A year?" Anakin's brow quirked quizzically.

"More than once," he repeated, a soft, brief chuckle accompanying the Jedi Master's lingering smirk.

"What could you have been doing for that long?"

"On the record?" Obi-Wan replied with a quick glance, a wide turn to the right and a sharp incline. "Establishing relations, more or less diplomatic work, but in areas too hostile for normal delegates to visit. Off," he said after a pause, "it was usually to seek out the cause of the lingering hostilities and deal with it."

"...I hope the Council never tells me I'll be gone a year," Anakin said with a smile, the teenager leaning back against the soft cushioned chair of the crimson ship. "Even four months away from Coruscant has been too much."

"Tell you?" And this came with a laugh. "I've never known Master Windu to give a time frame. He tells us when we're going. We tell him when we're done."

"Well tell them we're done until further notice!" he replied in matching amusement. Anakin rubbed at his neck and closed his eyes momentarily, the feeling of a familiar bed at the forefront of his thoughts. ...No, at this point it couldn't so much be considered familiar, could it? Not after this long. An old friend, more like. Comfortable. Missed.

"Me?! You'r-" A sharp, sudden turn at the last second saw them half-spinning to avoid colliding into another ship. This came almost seamlessly - almost - with the conversation only skipping a single beat. "Ha! You're mad if you think I'll be doing any such thing, Anakin! They'll have us out to Kashyyyk by dawn!"

"And you're mad to not let me drive, Master." Yawning, "Are we almost there?"

"We landed five seconds ago." The engines cut off. "Perhaps if I was more of a showoff like you we would have had a rough landing and you would have noticed."

Even as they jested back and forth, even as tired as they were, it didn't take the two long to climb out of the ship, and even less time to drag themselves from the landing pad to the homes the provided for them. Yawns accompanied their steps. Things such as reporting in to the Council, even such as showering and eating could wait for the morning. If they didn't have droids to take in their bags that would have likely waited too.

In fact, perhaps the only thing necessary right then was Anakin seeing Obi-Wan to his room, a gesture of respect that the master would be to rest first before the apprentice. Any energy that had existed with which to joke on the flight seemed dispersed, overcome now instead by grogginess, with quiet accompanying the two as the door slid open to Obi-Wan's home when they came to it on the walkway. Stepping inside, the lights in the main and any adjacent rooms flickering on, Obi-Wan rubbed at his face tiredly with one palm while the other, his glance back over his shoulder to his padawan, went to motion that it was alright to retire for the night. Though, the young Skywalker had an odd look on his face, one in which his was too tired to decipher right away.

"Anakin? What is it?" But then he realized the teen wasn't looking at him, but past him, to which Obi-Wan's eyes immediately shot forward.

 

[PocketFullOfPosies]

Coruscant.

It was so very different than Naboo and yet, like all planets in all galaxies these days, it was familiar due to one commonality; war. War took place on Coruscant very differently than it had on Naboo. No droid armies threatening to tear down the skyscrapers that covered over all of the natural features of the planets surface, as they had done to the verdant and dense landscapes of Naboo. There were no guns here to fight with, in public that is, only words. The main arena was not the fields outside of Theed, but the Senate Building; where tempers flared, alliances were forged and broken, and liberty dangled upon a thin and breaking string before their very eyes…

Padmé had witnessed more than enough of the atrocities of the Senate during her reign as Queen. Though her own council and her people had pleaded with her to take a second term, she was consumed by the thoughts of the Senate dismantling all that she had fought for in the name of peace. Resigning at the elected period to Queen Jamillia, Padmé was supported by the new monarch to represent the Chommell Sector in the Senate…

A motion that would be welcomed by those who supported her unwavering dedication, and silently brewed upon by those who were certain they had seen the last of that poised and headstrong girl, whose tongue was sharper than any blade and whose eyes seemed to know all of your secrets without needing your confession at all…

Padmé was well aware of how her deep sienna eyes captivated those around her; particularly one above all others.

One whom she was certain had no idea that she would be there, standing in his chambers…He would be too weary after such a long journey to tap into that familiar throbbing in his heart that his senses stirred about when she was near..

It delighted her to know that she had the upper hand in this situation. To one up a Jedi Master was not an easily accomplished feat. Albeit, she had arguably done so since the mid reign of her nobility…Not simply in a friendly game of chess either…

When she arrived in Coruscant, Padmé had been disappointed to learn that Obi-Wan and Anakin had been sent on a rather long mission by the Jedi Council. They had not made contact with an anticipated return time so Her -now- Excellency, Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo, had requested to be informed of when her esteemed diplomatic escort and his Padawan would be returning.

Master Windu himself, on his way towards the Senate Building to no doubt tame the fires that had begun to spark surrounding the Jedi Council, had stopped her upon the steps to inform her that Obi-Wan was due in that night. Though utterly exhausted and flustered by the days prior occurrences, Padmé had to muster the strength to not beam with delight at the Jedi’s words. She had nodded, politely, and thanked him with a pleasant and soft Senator’s smile. One that gave no inclination whether she was truly pleased or not…

Hours had passed standing beside the standard Coruscantian one way windows…Watching ships of all shapes, sizes and colors whiz by…Three accidents, one fire, and even two fools attempting to race one another to the Stars know what destination. Padmé had laughed to herself upon seeing this…This was no race.

Annie would teach them all a lesson.

Annie…

Anakin was the reason she stood there in such formal gowns, instead of something loose and truly befitting more to a Cantina girl rather than a Senator. Well, she wore such things beneath her formal robes…

Being a politician made one used to many layers and disguises after all.
The gown was of a beautiful pale blue shade, soft silken materials that were pulled to hold tightly against Padmé’s lithe and blossoming figure. A dark bodice of a more royally affiliated hue was decorated with symbols as traditional to Naboo as the stark white polish ever present upon the former Queen’s thumb nails. This bodice however, as part of her elegantly devious plot formed whilst dressing that afternoon, would pull away quite easily..revealing that her gown was not truly a gown, but a midriff top with a large diamond shape cut out of the fabric in the back, and a low set skirt that teasingly covered the rest of her body. She had draped an ornate white satin cloak with her family’s crest clasping the front over herself, so that any seams or skin could not be seen without her permission.

Padmé’s long curls were pulled up with a thick band which matched the shade of her gown, ringlets elegantly falling about her face with such natural perfection.

Perfection took planning, at times…It had taken her at least an hour to dress, but the perfection of the moment when the two weary Jedi’s entered the elder’s chambers; it’s perfection was not due to any planning more elaborate and perfect than that of an eager heart…

She had been facing the windows still, when the doors made their familiar whoosh. With no need to hide her endearment, Padmé’s face lit up with excitement. She turned to face them, and as the Padawan gained his composure the moment his Master turned his eyes, Padmé couldn’t help but to giggle.

“Surprise!”

A giddy exclamation guilty of her age. Anakin dropped his bags, grinning with boyish delight as he rushed over, embracing her with the enthusiasm of a boy not quite his age…

“Padmé! What are you doing here?!”

The Senator smiled warmly, hugging the young Jedi whom even now was still that little boy back on Tatooine. With one slender hand stroking his feathered hair, those captivating eyes stared on towards the boy’s Master…Her smile elegantly, coyly, curling into a smirk of pleasure.

“I am a Senator now…”

Check.

 

[As Day Fades]

Check indeed.

"Padmé...?"

It was whispered, very soft, barely escaping Obi-Wan's lips. So shocked, so sudden came this that he knew not how to respond. His body language, his face, and, when he would speak, his speech belied the Jedi's usual exterior of knowledge and control.

"Anakin! Your manners."

Beyond gorgeous...

"Manners? But Master, this is Padmé!" he exclaimed, his smile still a mile wide despite the chastisement.

It took everything Obi-Wan had to gather himself in a moment's time. First he stood up straight, no more slouch; tired as he was, this wasn't the time. Second he let his padawan's informal greeting slide. They were in his private room right now, there was no one around for which standing on ceremony was necessary; he had gotten so used to the act, with her, that by now it came too naturally. Third, he fought to quell any thoughts of attraction, for should a blush appear up high Anakin was quick and would wonder, and should anything rise below the insatiable little brat would find time to tease him about it for hours - and not only with her words. And finally he processed, quickly as he could, what she had said.

"...Senator? Are you joking?" Obi-Wan laughed confusedly. "And what happened to Queen, Your Highness? Aren't..." He paused, thinking a moment. "Shouldn't you be on Naboo? Isn't the reelection supposed to be soon?"

"Master, do not be so quick to send her away!" Anakin said with a laugh, still hugging the young woman. "She has come all this way to see us!"

Obi-Wan smiled. Then the smile softened, a bit embarrassed. Inhaling a deep, slow breath, hands clasped together at his front, he found those deep sienna eyes and in that moment... felt home. "She has, hasn't she?" His heart beat steadily. "Then we are indeed blessed." Another moment. Obi-Wan couldn't help the soft smile edging his lips. "A Jedi is never too tired for a guest, especially not one whom has travelled so far. Anakin, pick us out a nice wine."

Those were the words that released the young man's arms from around Padmé, his eyes flashing with perhaps even more excitement at Obi-Wan. "Master?"

"Yes, yes, you can have some. I suppose can't take you across galaxies, teach you to use a lightsaber and then- ONE glass!" he called out as Anakin quickly rounded a corner for the kitchen. "And then it's straight to bed!"

The moment he was gone - the moment - the Jedi's steps moved quietly across the carpeted floor to his guest. To a woman who was much more. He had all of two seconds before the eagerness of a young teenager would be allowed his first sip of alcohol. Obi-Wan's left hand slipped into Padmé's right. He gave her a squeeze, firm and telling, as he leaned in, eyes lulling, an exhale of warm breath coming against her lips.

He didn't kiss her.

Stopping an inch short, instead, he whispered, "You have been missed." His thumb traced the soft inside of her palm. He had to let go when he heard Anakin coming back, however just before his student returned, just after releasing her had, the skillful man gave a quick pinch to that lovely little derriere. More so her hip, maybe, but it was close enough to count.

When Anakin got back to the room Obi-Wan was already halfway to meeting him, taking the bottle for inspection as the youth set up the glasses.

 

[PocketFullOfPosies]

With the bewildered look upon the Jedi Knight’s face, the high ground was forfeit…for a moment.

Anakin held tightly against her, as he had on those cold nights in space when they had first taken him from Tatooine...Back when she was both Padmé and Amidala, but Padmé only and always to Annie…and more than either Padmé or Amidala to Obi Wan…

Amidala was a façade put on by all Queens of Naboo, the same ethereal and austere nature differed only by a variance in regnal title. To act as a proper and efficient Queen, it was essential to be compassionate without being openly passionate. The stark white makeup of the Queen was painted to present an air of unwavering confidence, split red lips to remember the suffering of her people…Painted up, to hide her true self as best as possible..But to hide Padmé was a difficult task for anyone, including herself.

Her spirit was not relinquished beneath the extravagant gowns and courtly rules. Her persuasion and allure all the more enhanced by that ornate make up…Though she had gladly cleaned her face of reds and whites, that elegant ferocity that made Amidala a notable force in the Senate had not been washed away.

Padmé was undeniably herself, despite anyone and anything, she could not forbid herself from being ruled by her heart. A tragic flaw for a politician perhaps, but Padmé knew her heart better than most. It was dangerous…This was so very dangerous…

But to deny it, was something they had already failed to do.

It felt so much better to indulge…

Temptation had won years ago; the forbidden was far more satisfying.

As he laughed, her momentary complacency in self proclaimed victory shattered. What was so funny? The former Queen’s eyes narrowed slightly, but calmed as the padawan clung a bit tighter, his words making his Master seem more at ease. Though that..incredibly handsome smile, would not excuse him from a few sharp words in private. Padmé did not enjoy being laughed at, especially pertaining to her politics…And though she knew he had most likely just been taken aback by her sudden announcement mixed with her unexpected arrival,…it would still be amusing to taunt him later..to hear him plead for her forgiveness..

The thought alone sent a tremble up her spine, her fingers twitched slightly but thankfully Anakin had already dashed off to select a wine that would be worthy of both their guest and his first time, as far as Obi-Wan was aware, of sampling alcohol.

As he approached her, the Senator’s breath stalled in her throat. Soft pale lips trembled slightly as he leaned in towards her, that rugged scent of sweat and worry ever present upon her Knight. Missed was a tame word, one replaced with longed…needed…ached for in their hearts. Dark eyes gazed up towards the man much taller than herself, a smile dancing upon her lips as her eyes for a moment wavered…Trembling.

This was no time to confess their longings in words…Later..

From the pinch, her nose wrinkled slightly, her smile curling to a smirk as she took a seat on one of the sleek couches. After the glasses had been set, Anakin immediately sat down beside Padmé, his eyes wandering over her face..Studying her to make certain she was alright.

“So if you’re a Senator now, does that mean you can stay here? On Coruscant?”

“Yes!” Padmé smiled, cupping her hands over Anakin’s out of a sisterly affection. “I resigned a second term as Queen…I believe that I am needed here, more so than on Naboo.” Her eyes wandered towards Obi-Wan for a moment as the wine was poured. As she watched the clear lilac liquid bubble inside of the sleek glasses, the padawan’s eyes lingered upon the former Queen, upon his hands trapped between her soft fingertips. Padmé elegantly withdrew her hands, taking up a glass, which Anakin immediately followed suit in taking his own.

“Though,” The dark haired girl smirked, raising the glass to her lips as she stole a most vixen-esque glance towards the Master Jedi whilst his padawan eyed the wine before them, “I think I may have already stepped upon a few toes in my short time here. I suspect the Senate will simply have to become used to me, without the restraints of Monarchy keeping me tame..”

 

[As Day Fades]

Vixen. Nymphet. A most alluring little succubus. He had touched her. A moment ago he had felt the warmth of her hand. That meant this wasn't a dream, didn't it? Obi-Wan stood there, his side facing the pair as he pretended to examine the bottle Anakin had brought. As he pretended to look at his glass, considering it. Considering something. Considering nothing. In truth he heard little of their words, but rather listened to their voices. Her voice. That it was real filled him with warmth in a way he couldn't yet afford to react. All he could do was take one breath after another. Slow. They had played this game long enough, she and him, this illusion of Queen and Knight and nothing more. He would have to suffer it just a little while more.

"Already I get the feeling you will be a great boon to the senate, Your Highness," Obi-Wan chimed in as he lifted the glass to his lips. He paused for a moment before sipping - Your Highness? No, that didn't fit anymore, did it? Now that would be something to get used to! It should make for fun pillow talk later, too, that she was no longer royalty and therefor couldn't remain quite so bossy! Taking a hearty sip the master jedi smiled, "As much as you were a wonderful ruler for your people on Naboo I am sure you'll do them even more good here, where the planet's needs can be addressed on a greater level. And I wouldn't be surprised - nay, might even be disappointed if you hadn't stepped on some toes by now." With this Obi-Wan turned his face toward the pair, smiling a warm, familiar smile to Padmé. To his Padmé. He looked to her with a warmth she would recognize; not the face each knew to wear so often when others were around. "Smart. Strong. Fragile only in appearance. I pity any who would assume you to be less than you are."

Another sip followed his words, this with a look of his eyes directly into hers. "Though despite my faith in your abilities, not all the rest of the senate here on Coruscant is quite as pure and innocent as you." Pure and innocent? Hardly! A private little joke, that. "Dare I say, some of them may even be corrupt." A smirk, and a bit of sarcasm. "I wouldn't be surprised if your... style, steps on quite a few toes in your time here, Padmé. And I wouldn't be surprised if you go too far and someone attempts something foolish. And what do I always tell you about fools, Anakin?" Another good sip.

"That their blades may be sharper than their wits, Master."

"Very good." He looked to Anakin briefly, then back to the dark-eyed beauty. His. "If I might make a suggestion, speak to the Council soon on such matters. I suppose it would be best if Anakin and I are with you to explain to Master Yoda the situation." Another sip, and a lingering look to the woman, this with an amused, jovial smirk to it. "That situation being, Senator Amidala of Naboo is, by our experience, headstrong and quite incorrigible, and quite likely to stir up things both intended and unintended. It is in my opinion that though an escort could not tell her how to act, for such an attempt would never get anywhere, having a jedi in such a role could keep her from harm."

"Could we be those jedis, Master?!" Anakin piped in excitedly, drinking heartily at his wine, loosening Padmé's hand just long enough to pour himself a second glass before snatching the familiar warmth back up again.

"Our assignments are rarely up to us, Anakin, you know that. Such a request would have to fall to the lady here," and with this he shot he a glance, "and, beyond even that, to the will of the Council. Ultimately I think someone should be assigned to her side for awhile, no matter whom that may be, as surely her... way of going about... will see her at ends with some of the more questionable members of the senate, and through that who knows what is to be discovered?" Obi-Wan paused. "Of course, forgive me for overly assuming. I am exhausted, it is late, and my apprentice picked an especially good bottle." Obi-Wan smiled to Anakin, a mirroring look on the padawan's face. Then, back to Padmé, "I meant no offense, Lady Senator."

The brown-haired man finished the last bit of his glass before setting it on the end table at the couch where the pair were sitting, beside the bottle. Scratching lightly at the beard at the side of his jaw, he mused aloud, "Later than I'd care to acknowledge, really. The sun is likely closer to being up than it is down. ...Anakin, I think it is time for bed."

"Aww... but Master, I haven't gotten to see Padmé in so l-"

"Bed for us both, Anakin. All three, I'd say, if I might be so forward as to suggest," he said, looking to his sweet, fiendish, angelic little devil of a guest. "Miss Padmé will see herself out when she wishes, I suppose. As for you and I, despite what she decides, we still have to report in to the Council in the morning."

"...Yes, Master," Anakin said with a childlike whining of a sigh, setting his glass down and immediately wrapping that freed hand around the woman in a tired hug.

 

[PocketFullOfPosies]

She knew he was pretending, as he stared at the wine cradled in his hands…His calloused, worn hands that could feel so gentle and tender upon her skin, yet held the power to make her raw and aching still, begging for mercy at his feet…On those rare occasions where she demanded too much, and the tolerance of her Knight was pushed too far, he held the power to make submissive, a very sultry and boisterous Queen.

Former Queen…

One little dark haired political minx, who believed herself to be much more intimidating than she appeared. Albeit, even being of such lithe and petite stature, Padmé was quite capable of making men more than twice her size, and age for that matter, unsettled and unnerved in her presence…for reasons far beyond her looks. She possessed the wit and tongue of a politician far beyond her years, at least as far as those outside of Naboo were concerned.

Her home planet very much focused upon the intellectual pursuits, political involvement and outspoken activisms of their youth…The Senate had been used to dealing with Padmé’s predecessor, King Veruna…An older man who had been as corrupt as the majority of them. Veruna was power hungry, complacent with sitting silently in the Senate halls and counting his Republic marks. Unless someone challenged him of course; being challenged did not sit well with any person from Naboo.

Veruna was why there were so few male monarchs on Naboo…

Young girls held an elegance, an ethereal grace that was revered and regarded with wisdom on Naboo.

Padmé, at twelve, had defeated him mercilessly in a debate, leaving the King shamed and exposed for his tyrannical reign..And leaving the Senate to deal with a young Queen, who sat idly for no one.

Well, at least not for just anyone..

Curious eyes watched the Jedi Master chuckle against his glass, using words so eloquently strung to tease her, in order to keep his padawan ignorant while her own blood boiled. She would not lose the upper hand so easily…Not yet. Padmé leaned back against the couch, sipping at her wine as Obi-Wan jested of her ferocity in the Senate. She inclined her head delicately at his words, as if she had no idea of what he spoke…and at the same time lifting one of those long, sculpted legs to cross over the other, parting silken fabric around her waist at the very high slit in her skirt, allowing her bare, smooth skin to be seen, as well as the silver, glittering straps of her clear heels which tied midway up her calf. Elongating that smooth stem, unblemished, and untouched since the Water festival on Naboo…

This display immediately caught Anakin’s attention, as all of Padme’s movements tended to, but it was taken as a motion nothing out of the ordinary…Though he had inhaled his wine more so than sipping it, causing the young padawan to blush furiously.

Plenty of women crossed their legs after all, it wasn’t considered a sensual movement outright…

But with Padmé, her intentions were just that. To torment the seemingly conservative man to near bursting….To ruffle his feathers and make his skin crawl far more easily than even Annie…She wanted to control him, to see him red in the face and eager for an excuse to send Anakin away…

She loved seeing him twitch…A sign of eminent victory.

“Incorrigible? Well that is certainly not the word I would use.” She purred, sipping at her wine with a smile lingering upon her glossy lips. “Though, I suppose for those still focused on the old ways…” An emphasis upon the word made with a quirk of her brow, “My youthful voice and perspectives are rather exhausting. But time encourages change, it cannot be expected for things to remain as they were a long..long time ago…Around the time you were born Obi-Wan.” She giggled, and Anakin nearly spit out his wine. Covering his mouth as he choked back laughter, he exchanged a gleeful glance at Padmé, who was giggling still.

“But yes..it is probably best to go to sleep. I would not wish to keep you up Obi-Wan” she smiled through her laughter, placing her glass down upon the table as she warmly returned Anakin’s hug.

“Shall you both escort me to the Jedi Temple then tomorrow?” She asked as she stood once more, that veil of silk resuming its place to keep her flesh from sight. “I suspect you already have to report there, so I could accompany you and request your appointments as my bodyguards.” She smiled to Anakin who was wiping a bit of wine from his chin that he had in fact spit out. He smiled sheepishly, nodding towards her. Padmé then turned her gaze to Obi-Wan, brushing a few curls away from her face, twisting one slowly around her fingertip....Childishly...Devilishly...

“The sooner it is requested, the less trouble I will find myself in.”

 

[As Day Fades]

She gave him goddamn shivers.

Those shoes... those heels... Obi-Wan didn't look. He didn't look as in his face didn't turn, as in his head was still, remaining where it was, eyes forward to stare at whatever he could stare at to not lose his composure. He didn't look in that he kept his head straight, but a man could only do so much about his peripheral vision. He could only do so much about a sexual little minx sitting on his couch in heels that would fit right in at the skankiest of clubs. He could only do so much about an adorable youth flashing him those eyes, those hungry eyes, and about the way she girlishly played with her hair, making any man who looked feel like the worst of sinners.

Deep breaths. One, and then a second. And then another to follow it. There was no other way to get through this.

Blinking hard, if only Anakin wasn't lingering, he thought... It felt as if they were working together against him, to torture him, to drive him nuts, though in separate ways. Breathing, he knew the boy cared for her greatly, though not as he did. Not love. Love, yes, perhaps, but of a different sort. A young, naive sort. That was something they'd have to address sooner or later rather than to keep skirting around, but for now Obi-Wan could only acknowledge that briefly before his mind was pulled back to the issue at hand. The small issue. The petite, and adorably seductive issue.

"We'll meet here in the morning then," he managed, a forced calm to his voice. Very forced. "I will see you both here by nine? That does not allow for very much sleep tonight, but Master Yoda does prefer promptness." Taking another breath, now that he'd started to talk again it was a little easier to regain himself, to concentrate on something other than her. His her. "Truthfully he would have wanted us reporting in now, I am sure, were it not already so late." Another breath. He gave Anakin a look that was neither harsh nor relaxed, but commanding, one that the boy had come to learn meant there had been enough procrastinating.

Giving a weak frown as his only response, Anakin knew better than to stall anymore. Giving Padmé one more quick hug, for in the mind of a youth in love it had been ridiculously forever since their last, he smiled to her as he stepped back. "Goodnight Padmé," he spoke, letting go of her hand last. then, "Goodnight Master," before he finally turned, stepping out the door.

"Goodnight Anakin," Obi-Wan replied, his tone already shifting from the uncomfortable forced-calm of a moment ago to something else. Would she feel it? Would she sense it coming, or did the little devil still think herself in control? The Jedi could feel it in his chest, throbbing, eager, that feeling he had learned to go so long without during their months apart. He looked to Padmé from her side. He looked to her as she watched his Padawan apprentice leaving. He looked to her cheek, to her youthful face. He looked to the clothes that hid beneath something he could only imagine was equal parts filth and beauty, something he'd been gifted with a brief glimpse of already. He looked to her as one might stare at a painting, at a statue, admirably at first, then analytical at second.

And when they were finally alone, when she began to turn to him any pleasure he might have felt in their privacy disappeared immediately. When she began to turn she would find nothing less than a hard, open palm cracking hard against the side of her face.

"How dare you," he exhaled hotly. Reaching out, the Jedi snatched at Padmé's hair, taking a fistful to then twist her to the side and slightly up, the tips of her toes briefly all that touched the rug. His opposite hand came up then to strike her opposite cheek, holding nothing back in his frustration.

Letting go, he shoved her head forward, anger painting his face. "You little brat!" he chastised, not too loud yet for Anakin couldn't be far, but that didn't save his tone from any degree of fury. Hushed, yet sharp. "I have told you again and again Padmé that we must be careful! And again, and again you push to see how far we can go without getting caught!" His chest rising and falling with each rapid breath, Obi-Wan raised a palm to run through his hair. Looking down at her, he continued, "I'm thrilled that you are here, but surprising me like that is risky! And what of someone else? What if another senator's spies saw you come here so early in the morning? Would you jeopardize us both?! ...And what is this 'senator' business?!"

What was he to do? How was he supposed to respond? He had enough on his hands dealing with one teenager all day. So much stress, so much burden he had to constantly shoulder... Obi-Wan moved to plop down on the couch where she and Anakin had just been sitting, sighing into his hands. "Goddamnit Padmé I love you, but I... ugh... I am thrilled to hear that you were chosen to be senator - thrilled - and it's still surreal to me, but I wish you wouldn't test the limits of what people would believe by coming here so late. And your actions in front of Anakin! He's not a kid anymore, no less than you! He's going to catch your actions one day, and how much he likes you is already enough of an issue!"

He wasn't going to get through to her, was he? No more than he did any other time he went on a tirade. ...though, much as he didn't like to admit it, she wouldn't be herself if she were more well behaved. She would still be his, but there was just something so youthful about her free spirit with things such as is that he adored. And as such was her role to play, his was of the older, more mature that had to clean up any messes while being careful bigger ones weren't created while he was dealing with the first. And part of him was constantly terrified she'd resent him for that one day.

"I love you," he spoke again, this one softer though, more calm. But instead of allowing himself to calm for long Obi-Wan stood. "And I think you'll forgive me because of that, my Padmé, for what is coming." Standing, he reached over to the bottle Anakin had brought, to a small towel sitting on the endtable beside it. "I'll not have you dressed like that right now, whatever it is you are wearing beneath that. Like a whore." Did that word give her the same guilty shivers it did him? "I am too worked up, too tired, and you will not be allowed to seduce me into a quick forgiveness. So take everything off." He tossed the cloth down at her feet. "And when you've finished with that you can start cleaning that spot you caused from your joking. ...Old, am I? So old that Anakin thought it was funny and spilled on my rug. So old that you can disrespect my home?"

Taking another long, calming breath, Obi-Wan returned to his seat. "I hear wine stains quick, and can be rather difficult to get out."

 

[PocketFullOfPosies]

Judging by the way his eyes kept averting from her, never settling upon her form for longer than a glance to keep himself from looking rather suspicious, Padmé felt rather secure in her triumph. In the Senator’s mind, she had executed her plan for a perfect seduction flawlessly. The element of surprise combined with his weariness from travel caught him perfectly off guard…Which permitted her to add an extra blow to his senses with that light, floral perfume spritzed with sparkles upon her neck and wrists, the bright color of her clothing in the dimly lit quarters and that innocent flash of skin when those absolutely trampish shoes were revealed…

Had he been alone, Padmé was confident that he would have been brought to his knees before her…

And despite that vision being in her head alone, it brought a tremble of immense pride and satisfaction coursing through the young nymphet’s body.

“Nine sounds excellent,” She concurred, moving to stand beside Obi-Wan as Anakin followed reluctantly beside her, knowing that he would be forced to leave her side soon. His hands lingered, tracing fingertips against the soft skin of Padmé’s wrist, idly smiling to himself. Months had seemed like years away from her…How had he ever survived a moment without her warmth?

The young padawan caught his Master’s firm stare. He immediately retracted his hand and instead embraced the former Queen, who warmly returned the affection. “Goodnight Annie, sleep well” She smiled softly, watching the boy head quite unenthusiastically to his quarters for the night. Ignorant entirely of what he left behind, and what his absence would unleash…Unaware of his place as a tourniquet for forbidden passions; the moment he was removed, such wanton desires were released at a near perilous force..

A force as strong as that open strike to the Senator’s pretty little face. In her swell of confidence, the little vixen left herself vulnerable for such an assault..Check

She stumbled slightly, but was caught by the Jedi’s fingers twisting firmly into her pretty locks, pulling her back into place..Her place..A place she needed to be forced into, for she wouldn’t submit so willingly on her own. She could feel her feet rising off of the floor, and somewhere within her panicked thoughts she wondered how much strength of his own he was using to lift her…

Padmé, after all, weighed as much as one of the many fancily decorated feathered pillows placed upon her bed.

The second strike she was prepared for, preemptively wincing as she braced herself for the sudden blow…and for the lecture to follow. She said nothing at first after being released, fuming with her humiliation as she gently rubbed her face. Feeling the blood rushing to the spots on her pale cheeks where his hand had impacted the harshest, bringing her a shade of blush no amount of makeup could recreate. Those sienna eyes trembling not with shame, but with fury.

How dare she? How dare he! She may not have her crown, but she was still Queen! And she would make certain to remind him of such…

As he began patronizing her, Padmé twisted her fingertips at her side, allowing him to blow off steam with words she would use against him later on to sate her own guilty delight in hearing him beg and plead for her forgiveness. Never out of malice or desire to hurt him…but when he scolded her so…so [I[brutally[/I], was it not just for her to desire to see him nuzzling at her thighs, whispering his pleas against her inner most intimate folds..

He was right, for many reasons..

He was right about her carelessness about coming to his quarters so late. She hadn’t even considered the thought that other Senator’s could be spying on her…Her heart had been beating too loudly for her to think of anything else but him…
Not even about Anakin, or his feelings towards her..Which she did not believe, mostly because the idea seemed as probable as being attracted to one’s own sibling…

He was also right in thinking he wouldn’t get through to her like this…Scolding worked for some but like Anakin, Padmé did not respond well to such things..In fact, in a manner almost exceeding the padawan in brattiness, the young Senator mostly ignored what was being reprimanded. Even Anakin paid attention, his mind wandered at times, but he was mindful of his Master’s words. Padmé however, focused on what she delighted in hearing, that he loved her. Words to confirm he was not incredibly mad, and that she still had a chance to win in this power play they constantly reveled in.

Who would submit tonight…

Who would relinquish themselves to lay beneath the other, to obey the heated commands made between the sheets…

They needed the release, both of them did…Despite Obi-Wan’s headaches, despite his protests…He needed her, almost as much as she needed him in fact.

To play this dangerous game, every move needed to be carefully plotted…Being mindful of the other players, the other pieces…the pawns.

But at times, the most thrilling and satisfying thing to do, was to take a chance..To move carelessly.

To play on instinct and heart’s desire…And Padmé’s desire, from the bottom of her heart, was to spend even a few hours with her Jedi Knight…even if they were both thoroughly, painstakingly exhausted for the entirety of the following day.

Clothes off was it? The youth smirked in delight as she moved her hand to the clasp of her cloak, letting it drop to the floor in a fluid motion, pooling around her feet as her hands dropped to unclasp the pearls upon her bodice. “Old indeed…” She mused, slipping her bodice off as she walked towards the couch, revealing the much more sultry attire she had been hiding under the guise of modest couture fashion. Her hands moved down the curve of her sides as she approached him, lifting a leg so that once again the thin silken material parted around the muscular shape of her thigh.

“So old that you’ve forgotten how to treat your Queen…whom you vowed would always be such, crown or not…” She purred, lowering herself to straddle his waist, making certain to bring herself quite close to him, her free hand moving to stroke his beard as she gazed up towards him with the most innocent expression. “Haven’t you missed me?…” She pouted sweetly, pressing her breasts against his chest. “I’ve dreamt of you every night since we’ve been apart…” She whispered, moving her hand from his beard down to the one at his side, guiding it up towards her face “And I was so anxious to see you..I could not wait until morning..and you greet me by hurting me? Yelling at me?”

There was a choke in her voice, one further emphasized by a sniffle and a pouted lip…But there was no hiding the lust in the Senator’s young, beautiful eyes as she gazed up towards her Knight…

 

[As Day Fades]

She would not break him so easily. He knew his Padmé. He knew her devious little mind, her dirty little thoughts. As he said the words Obi-Wan knew she would turn the order to remove her whorish attire into an opportunity to striptease - and even if she didn't, even without any added effort, the revelation of a female's skin by itself sent shivers through the spine. Knowing this, his face was turned away before Padmé could even be rid of her cloak.

What were the ingredients in that wonderful wine? Blackberry juice. Filtered water from... how would you pronounce that planet? He had to squint to even see the small lettering on the label. Even this he found impossible to concentrate on! ...Was Obi-Wan really reading the wine? His eyes shut. A hand came up, fingers folded into themselves, fist coming to rest against his lips and chin. He had hit her. He hadn't seen her in so long, loved her, missed her, thought about her every day, craved her every night... he had hit her twice after being away for so long. And she wasn't mad; he could see her playful gyrations from the corner of an eye. This was all part of their game, he knew, everything from the attitude he was showing now to her clothes to... to everything. But right now he couldn't help but want to be rid of this nonsense for just a few minutes.

And then she straddled his lap, pressing her thoroughly bared body against him.

That did him in. The finger affectionately stroking his light beard. The warmth of her breath. The pouty, guilt-inducing voice that questioned whether or not he actually missed her. Obi-Wan cracked in that moment. Fuck his anger; one arm rose up around the bared skin of her upper back, hugging firmer the body which already fitted itself so close to his form. His other hand left his chin to spread its fingers, trailing around Padmé's face, nails tracing a stained cheek, reaching to dig themselves in that softest of brunette hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice shaky. "I'm sorry, Padmé... don't... don't be mad at me, for this..." Guiding her head closer, Obi-Wan leaned forward, eyes still shut. He met her halfway, nuzzling his bearded cheek against her forehead. "I missed you terribly. I love you. You will always be my Queen. I promise, I promise..."

Could they drop their game just for a moment? The time away seemed to get longer and longer with each tearful departure. Did their reunions always have to be like this, a power struggle?

"I love you," again he whispered. "I've dreamt of holding you like this forever... I could go without this ever ending..." His fingers slipped out of her hair to instead stroke against them, soft, caressing the strands. His other arm drifted down to her lower back. His face fell to kiss at her jaw. "You mean everything to me, my Padmé." Her hair was so soft. And what was that perfume? "Please... p-please, stay here with me tonight. We'll be up early, before Anakin, but I want you in my bed... my arms..."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. Oh, to end such a moment... He hated himself for it already, the thought. He could accept that though. What he worried about, instead, was similar, and always a constant. "You make me do these things, my love... you do." She was so soft, so warm. The taboo of even touching her hadn't worn off years later, the simple, intimate contact sending shivers through him still. "I know I must be this way so you can afford not to. I just... I just hope you do not come to detest me for it some day." The hand at her back ran around her smooth, feminine side to her waist. "Not for real." To her front, palm resting against her belly. "You mean so much to me."

And then the moment was over. The game was back on. The hand at Padmé Amidala's hair jerked her head backward. The other, at her abdomen, aided in shoving her away, shoving her off the couch and to the floor. Would she notice his own wince as he did so? It didn't matter. Obi-Wan's eyes opened to look upon her young teenage form as he stood, towering over her. "You are going to clean that before it stains like I told you to," his voice having sharply regained every degree of strength, "and you are going to do it now! And if you insist on dressing like such a galactic ho then we will simply have to put you on the corner where you can be one!"

She was in check. Her turn. How would she move?

"Aagh!" A grunt of frustration. Brows furrowed, Obi-Wan waved a dismissive hand at her before turning and walking off toward the bath.

 

[PocketFullOfPosies]

And so, for the moment, the white flag had been revealed…

Until moments later when said flag would surely be used as some sort of lewd restraint or gag, for the time being, peace was to be made between two lovers whom had been surviving off of the lingering taste of the other upon their lips for what seemed like a dreadful eternity...

She felt him falter beneath the weight and warmth of her body. All of his anger and grouchiness crumbling as his arm rose up to guide her closer. Padmé smiled, a sharp breath drawn inward as if she were choking back tears. A whimper stalled in her throat as she relinquished herself, for the moment, into the Jedi’s arms. “Oh Obi-Wan…”she whispered as he plead with her, her elation all the more intensified as his embrace encompassed her entirely..

There.

This was what she wanted….What all the teasing built up to; surrendering on both sides into such intimacy and trust forged upon necessary secrets. These brief moments in their game, when professions of love and affection took place, made such confessions all the more meaningful…and the illicitness of their affair all the more worth while. Padmé curled herself closer against Obi-Wan’s chest, her lips softly playing upon the base of his neck as her fingertips traced the curves of his muscles through the fabric of his robes…Dropping those slender hands down between his thighs, seeking more warmth as her smile became a bit more playful.

“And I love you Obi-Wan…” She whispered in turn, “And I have every intention of staying here for the remainder of the night…in you arms, whether you approve or not” Those neatly trimmed brows raised with audacious intent. Would he submit now, and come crawling behind her as she went to his room? Would he nuzzle against those shoes he scoffed at? Would he relinquish all that it meant to act as severe and composed as a Jedi, and serve his Queen well that night, taking every ounce of humiliation with pleasure and gratitude?

Or would his age demand he take his young lover back into her place? Did he desire her to be the one upon her knees that night?

Well, starting that way at least…

A soft, aching moan escaped Padmé’s lips as the hand in her hair tightened, for a moment, her back arched forward, pushing her breasts against his chest, grinding herself against his waist…Eagerly. As she was again tossed to the floor, Padmé laid down upon her back, eyes intent upon her Knight as her own hands wandered down the length of her body. Smoothing down her waistline, trailing upon the curve of her skirt’s band. She arched her back in a rather feline-like display, twisting at the golden clasp upon her hip that held the very thin material of her skirt together.

“You don’t bother cleaning up your stains..” she mused wickedly, sitting up on her knees, causing her skirt to slip off of her body to reveal very sheer white panties that hugged against her body with what little material they were composed of. Finding the act more to her advantage than that of humiliation, Padmé crawled after Obi-Wan, hips swaying elegantly in the dim light. “Mmm and you wouldn’t put me out on the street…You’re far too possessive.” She smirked, pausing as she came to the threshold of the door, moving up in one very elegant movement to her feet, before guiding herself up to stand with her back against the wall, eyes ever so intently upon the Jedi Master…

“Don’t you remember Supernova’s….”

 

[As Day Fades]

'You don't bother cleaning up your stains...'

That attacked directly at the gruff, frustrated, and frankly exhausted attitude. Obi-Wan couldn't help but crack a smile, thinking to himself how all of those stains were her fault too. Thankfully, though, he had already stepped into the bathroom, and since his back was turned she wouldn't have seen the pleasurable expression. As far as she would know he was still dissatisfied. This meant he had a moment to fight that smile, to make it go away. This also meant that he saw nothing of her stripping her lower half, the sheer white panties or the sultry catlike slink along the floor.

"I would not put you out on the street?" he mused aloud, thinking on that a moment. True, he was very possessive. Very possessive. Padmé was his. As determined to keep their relationship a secret as he was, there was no doubt between them of the mutual ownership, that they belonged to one another and that hell would freeze over before either would be seen in the arms of a third. But, still, the thought of putting Padmé on a corner somewhere as punishment was so delightfully arousing. She already had the attire of a working girl. It was just a matter of some make-up, a squabble, a few harsh slaps and even harsher words, and Obi-Wan could see himself sending her to a seedy corner somewhere to stand among other prostitutes with a quoted amount in mind - however many customers it took, she would not be allowed to return to him until she made that amount. And perhaps from then on she would reconsider dressing like such a harlot. ...but as he thought this the jedi already knew how the scene would play out. He would follow her, using all his tricks to remain undetected. He would wait and watch for someone to pick her from the other girls, an event that would come quick as her beauty was both flawless and undeniable. Then, seconds into her stepping into the vehicle he would have to intervene, waving his hand at the customer to make the man or woman forget her while he dragged Padmé back home for the beating of her life.

That, or maybe he'd be the one to purchase the 'prostitute', bringing her back to his bed to have her fulfill all the desires Padmé was usually too prissy to readily allow him.

Either way, just thinking about it had the man hard as a goddamn rock.

Smiling still, quite content with his thoughts, Obi-Wan turned when he heard her right behind him. He turned just in time to catch her back pressed against the door frame, to catch her rising up against it from a kneel, pure sex coming from her eyes, pure lust from her skin. His heart beat rapidly against his chest as he watched, no shame in observing. No shame in the protruding length that stretched against the typically loose attire of his chosen profession.

"Of course I remember Supernova," he replied with a purely lecherous twist of his lips. His eyes were on Padmé's body, scouring the tantalizing inches of her young, taut skin. By the Force, they had been apart for far too long! "Fourteen years old, the night before your fifteenth birthday you begged me for an early present, in addition to the one I had already acquired you... so spoiled you were. I can see things haven't changed much." A smirk. His eyes continued to leer. "You whined for me to take you to the dirtiest, seediest place I could think of, and I eventually gave in. ...I do recall they asked us to not come back after your little performance on stage." It had been hard enough to sit idly by as he watched men stick currency in her garter as she danced around a pole, and worse after that, to sit still when offers for each of her holes were being shouted out... When the pair of wookies got too grabby it took everything in the jedi to resist using his saber, or even the Force, for such a display would surely be talked about. "I broke my hand fighting those thick-skulled beasts. Or did you forget? ...To be entirely honest, I am not sure you quite made up for that yet."

Smug. Aroused and smug. Obi-Wan stood there a moment more, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her whorish attire even if openly chastised her for it. This game between them was always interesting, and always ever-changing. He took a few steps past her, out of the bathroom, not quite sure where to go or what to even do next. He had to keep moving, keep thinking or at least keep doing something, he knew, else she would be the little opportunist and seize control. And oh how terribly his soul craved then to simply submit...

 

[PocketFullOfPosies]

“Make up for what?” The little brunette minx mused, inclining her head slightly as she slowly caressed her hands up her thighs, across her lean stomach and beneath her breasts that were still blossoming amidst womanhood. “I don’t recall doing anything wrong that night….In fact, if I recall correctly, after you dragged me home…You had me dance just for you…” A smirk curled on her soft lips, her hand reaching out to grasp at the folds of his robe as he tried to pass her.

A move like that wouldn’t be ignored…

He was trying to get away, to keep pacing so that he could come up with some sort of plan to retain what little dominance his gruff attitude had built up that night. As the Senator’s little fingers twisted against his robe, tugging at him lightly to turn and face her, the Queen in her decreed that this would not be so. Surely that under most physical circumstances, Padmé would not stand a chance in winning against her Master Jedi; however, when the man was already tired, and his arousal was becoming to heavy and painful to bear…the soft tug from a young maiden half his age felt like a gravitational pull…

And thus the Master would find himself pressed against a giggling girl, whose hands moved to grasp his wrists before his Jedi reflexes could contact his senses…For a young girl in heat was a dangerous foe, and her skills far more deadly than that of even the most renowned Jedi. Setting her trap by pushing her breasts against his chest, whilst guiding his hands to grope at her ass, batting her eyelashes with all the innocence of a desire demon..

“Perhaps…” She whispered, one hand still atop of one of his wrists, keeping him there as her other hand moved down between their bodies. She lifted up her right leg, draping it around his waist to pull him closer, pressing the bulk of his arousal against her open palm. Those little fingers went immediately on their devilish task, stroking at the older man through the layers of cloth. Her hand positioned almost as a barrier between his length and the curves of her sex. Though his tuned senses no doubt could feel her heat still, her excitement clear from the glistening wetness against the slit of her white panties.

“Perhaps after the Senate meeting… you will take me to another club to dance….” Eyes intently moved up towards his face, her heels providing enough extra height for her to be able to nuzzle at his neck without straining upon her tiptoes. Her hips began slowly moving, back and forth in a slow grind to press her palm against his need. A dangerous question that she wagered her power on at that moment, as such a suggestion could snap her lovers carnal envy and cause him to regain control with a fist wrapped tightly in her hair, his other hand eager to teach her a lesson on endangering them with such excursions…

"I do love dancing..." She purred, her lips lining the curve beneath his jaw. "Knowing that out of everyone there, that you're watching me...That I am yours, and when we go home that night you'd remind me of just that..."

Albeit....if her pieces had been lined out just right…He would be so overwhelmed at that moment, by the sight of her...the smell of her, the feel of her....that he would be willing to say or agree to anything, just to be able to melt into her delicate and most manipulative, nymphet hands…

 

[As Day Fades]

He was weak to her. ...no. No, on a good day he was weak, at a time when he was well rested and mentally prepared. Times like that she still knew how to press all the right buttons, engaging in a game he had to be careful to keep control of. Like this, exhausted, taken by utter surprise by her presence, and suffering from months of emotional and physical need... he was putty in her hands.

Part of the Jedi hated himself for that.

The rest, right then, simply didn't know how to resist. She would have felt it when she touched him, his Padmé, when her fingers danced at his robes. When she pressed her petite, youthful breasts to the stronger man's chest Obi-Wan had not a slight of fight left in him, gripping his beloved nymphet's backside with fervor when she guided his hands to those rounded, firm curves. And then the palm. That evil little palm, responsible for so many sweet, seductive sins, acting as both encouragement and denial between their loins - any lingering thoughts he may have harbored for one final resistance dissipated in that moment, the bearded Jedi's arousal growing to its peak against her slender, delicate fingers.

"I love you," he whispered hotly, and in bittersweet defeat. The taller man's eyes drifted closed and a hand traced such smooth, flawless skin to grip Padmé's thigh, keeping the leg hooked around him. The other was in no way shy in its tight grip upon her firm, supple ass. His Queen's body indeed had its own gravitational pull, the Jedi finding himself leaning... leaning... his back arching, leaning closer with every breath, until his lips latched hungrily to her neck. In that instant it was all over. She had won.

Digging his fingers into that perfectly curved cheek, digging his fingers into a thigh which could make even the strongest of men want to fucking sin, Obi-Wan held his young Padmé firm to his chest as he lifted her up, and in one hot, lusting movement, turned them around until her back was pressed against the frame of the bathroom's doorway, her legs an inch too short of being allowed the floor. He pinned her. Perhaps too hard, perhaps too eagerly he pinned her, but perhaps too bad. Obi-Wan's hips pressed forward, pressing his hard, aching need into the curve of Her Royal Highness' palm, his loose clothing doing nothing to hide the size and shape she had come to know well over the past two years. And like that he grinded. Lustful. Shameless. He ground his loins against her palm, breathing with desperate need upon her neck. "I love you," came the words, a soft pant, "I need you," the hand on her teenage ass holding firm, sandwiching her, as if the door frame wasn't enough. "I need... you."

Quick, lusting kisses devolved into exhales of hot breath against her neck, Obi-Wan's lips parting to rest his teeth against her skin. "Wherever you want... whatever you want," he whispered, his mind flashing with the memory of that hot night after he brought her home from the club in a fit of anger. That 'night' had lasted a day and a half, their sweaty bodies entangled for an eternity that had been all too short. "Anything... anything... mine... tell me you're mine..." Pleading. Desperate. Obi-Wan was putty in her hand in a very literal sense. She could give her lover a sweet giggle, a quick hand release, he knew, and he was so weak for her then that he would take such, and take it gladly. But he wanted more. He needed her love right now. Games could come later, the next morning, when it was once again clear how deep their feelings for one another truly were.

"My Queen," he whispered, teeth raking passionately up the side of her neck, below her jaw, to just below her ear, his beard brushing against her delicate skin.