EIGHTEEN

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It's the middle of the night when Liana wakes up to Anakin sitting up, panting. He's shirtless after the romantic evening the two had shared, and his toned chest rises and falls rapidly. The fighting he's been doing has resulted in even more defined muscles all over his torso.

"Ani?" she murmurs, turning to face him as he sits up out of bed and puts his head in his hands. "What is it?"

"Just a bad dream, princess,"

"You're having nightmares again?" she asks, propping herself up a little. "Why didn't you say so?"

"It's nothing," he insists, getting to his feet and slipping his robe over his toned back. "I'll be right back love,"

"Wait—Ani!" She slowly gets to her feet and follows in pursuit. She finds him outside on the balcony, near the small garden. He's staring out at the city, deep in thought.

"Tell me about the nightmare," she says softly as he turns to her. Liana wears a pink nightgown that leaves little for her husband's imagination. Her small baby bump is visible, and he cannot help but lovingly place a hand on it as he looks to her.

"It was similar to the ones I used to have about my mother, just before she died,"

"And?" Liana prods, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"And—it was about you—dying in childbirth," Anakin confesses, rising to his feet and turning away from her.

"And the baby?" she asks carefully.

"I don't know," he admits.

"Ani, these nightmares—they're not the future. It could merely be your worries getting to you,"

"I won't let this one become real. I told you, I will protect you, and our family,"

"I know, Ani. I believe you, but I swear I'll be okay. I'm going to take childbirth classes and Coruscant has excellent medical care—it's merely a bad dream,"

He nods. "This baby is a blessing. I don't care what others will think about me, about us, princess. I'm happy, truly,"

"You'll make an amazing father," she smiles as he pulls her into a loving embrace. "I just know it,"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Later that morning, Liana feels utterly at peace when she opens her eyes to see Anakin's figure beside her, fast asleep. Up close, she can count every single freckle on his face, and admire his thick lashes as his chest rises and falls softly. His arm is lazily slung around her, keeping her close.

The perfect moment is ruined as Liana's nausea stirs in the pit of her stomach. She quickly climbs out of bed and hurries into the washroom, flicking the sink on the splash cold water on her face.

Instantly, Anakin is there, just like she had been.

"Are you alright, princess?" he asks worriedly as she sits down on the small bench in the large washroom.

"Just nauseous," she replies. "Perks of carrying our little miracle, I suppose,"

Anakin huffs with laughter before grasping a towel and running it under the water before getting to his knees before her and gently placing it on her forehead.

"Have I told you how much I missed you?" he sighs, tucking a strand of her hair from out of her face with his metal fingers. "It felt like a lifetime since I had last seen you,"

"I know, lots has changed, clearly," Liana replies, collecting her heap of hair and holding it off her neck. Anakin moves the washcloth to there as well. "How long do you think this war will last?"

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