Empire: The Rise (Anakin x Reader)

The Emperor's Training

"She's trying to connect with you," Qui-Gon emphasized, taking the parchment to look it over. "You should put the same effort in. We both know you could learn a thing or two from her, as well."

Although, this form of oversharing seems to be a bit of manipulation, as well, Qui-Gon thought to himself. She's a clever little thing. With Anakin's ego, this is more likely to work.

Anakin scowled at him, snatching the letter back and folding it up carefully.

"Whatever. I'm going do it, but only because we have to return to Ra for the biannual senate meeting - I won't stay there for long. Being around her makes me nauseous."

"Whatever you're comfortable with. I'm sure she will appreciate your efforts."

"Oh, don't worry," Anakin said devilishly, a grin reappearing on his face. "She's going to wish she'd never asked."

__________

True to the letter she had sent to Anakin, it had been a few weeks since (Y/N)'s run in with the Togruta girl in Bracca. Since then, she had taken Cal to Kamino, dropped him off to go through their training program, and returned to the Capital. She looked forward to seeing his progress, and eagerly awaited his arrival in Ra. In addition, days had passed since her letter was delivered to the Emperor's camp, with no word in response.

Now she laid in bed, the twin suns not yet risen, blissfully sleeping off the bruises she had sustained jumping from the train. Nearly healed, they colored her skin with greenish-yellow splotches, a palate of tender spots in muted display. Her sheets wrapped around her legs, cool silken fabric soothing her skin.

The Empress could have slept for hours more, and probably would have, had the sound of distant arguing not pulled her from her dreams.

"My lord, you cannot go in! She isn't dressed for the day!"

Who isn't dressed for the day?

"It's already the crack of dawn. How much more time does she need?"

"You'll be running in on her in her nightgown. Please, Your Highness, this is unacceptable!"

The voices grew louder as footsteps echoed down the hall. The loud, confident steps of heavy boots, followed by rapid, frantic, lighter steps behind them.

"Unacceptable? The woman I'm legally and ceremoniously married to? I'm within my rights to see her completely naked if I want to."

Married woman? Who are they talking about? The only married woman on the hall is m-

(Y/N) shot up in bed, realization dawning on her just as Anakin barged through the door. While it's true that she was in a nightgown, the tie around the chest had come slightly undone, and her legs were exposed all the way up the thigh.

A moment passed of the two staring at each other, neither saying a word.

Anakin's eyes seemed to scan her from head to toe, taking in her tousled hair, unlaced gown, and exposed skin. When he thought about it, this was the first time he had seen her without her hair styled, fully put together in some elaborate outfit. She appeared as if she had been pulled from vivid dreams, her under-eyes ever so slightly puffy. He wondered if they had been pleasant - he couldn't imagine someone who looked so angelic could suffer anything different. Staring at her now, he pretended not to acknowledge that he'd always found her to be attractive. Though, he'd never much given himself the time to think about it. Having a beautiful wife, pure-hearted and warm, was for men who could afford much more luxury than he. Men who weren't ruthless conquerors, or murderers. Men who led by anything other than brute force. And yet, she sat before him, bewildered and raw beneath his gaze. It froze him in place, the act of standing in tarnished robes before her feeling like a grave sin.