Everyone knows the story of the Jedi Anakin Skywalker and the Senator Padme Amidala. But what if their roles were switched. Anakin Starkiller the Senator of Naboo and Padme Naberrie a padawan destine to become a great Jedi. Will they still fall in l...
Anakin loitered beside by the gargantuan windows of his living area, features stiff with frustration, his eyes flickering unseeingly over the vista beyond. Violent tangerine smothered the skies, as though an orange had burst and drenched the clouds in its fiery juice. Stars had begun to blossom and soaked in the sunset, the boy awaited the arrival of her appointed Jedi sentinels.
But they weren't just Jedi sentinels. It was Obi-Wan and Paddy. Butterflies swarmed his belly, fluttering in his insides with nauseating feelings. Anakin wasn't quite sure why his nerves were so erratic. But he knew now wasn't the time to let his feelings overtake his decision. His people come first.
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The elevator ride up to the Senator's apartment couldn't be over sooner, in Padme's opinion, yet if it never ended she would have been thrilled. She looked out the window, trying to ignore the impossibly bright presence at the top of the building as they got closer and closer to the top floor of the building.
"Are you alright?" Obi-Wan pulled her attention away from the window she was gazing out of, and onto the ride up. The truth was, she wasn't sure. The elevator ride up to the Senator's apartment felt impossibly long as it came nearer to the top floor of the building. "You seem a little on edge, my Padawan."
Padme' laughed and gave a smile, hoping to seem more at ease. "Not at all, Master." Padme' not hiding her nerves very well. The nature of the mission, and who they were protecting, were more the cause of her nerves being haywire.
An assassination attempt had been made on the Senator of Naboo, Anakin Skywalker, and so she and Obi-Wan, by request of both the Chancellor and the council, had been assigned guard duty to the young man. To make sure no other attempts were made on his life. It was a compromise, she was sure, but Anakin knew them best after all. It was only natural they'd be sent to help.
Obi-wan smiled at her. "I haven't felt you this tense since...since we fell into that nest of gundarks," he remarked. The woman let out a scoff.
"You fell into that nightmare, Master, and I rescued you. Remember?" She gave the man a stare. He turned back to the door, hands clasped in front of him.
"Oh yes." There was silence, only briefly, because soon the two couldn't stop laughing. The woman reached up to brush loose strands from her forehead, tucking them behind her ear and adjusting her braids. Two braids were looped behind her head, whilst a third warped around the back in the shape of a bun. A fourth, much thinner braid, fell down from behind her right ear rested against her chest. It was decorated in colorful bands.
"Relax, my Padawan." The man told her. The woman rolled her eyes.
"You know how I feel about politicians, Master," She argued.
"You only feel like they all hate you because you're better at diplomacy than the entire Galactic Senate," Obi-Wan argued back.
