Anakin Skywalker

It had been years since the duel on Mustafar between Anakin and Obi-Wan, when Emperor Palpatine found Anakin half-dead and healed him before he could die, leaving him in a decent state. Emperor Palpatine had been willing to find Anakin a new wife ever since he was heartbroken over Padmé's death, but it was no use. Until he found you. The daughter of a general in the Imperial forces, beautiful and high-ranking, you were considered impeccable, but what he didn't know was that the girl he had chosen was secretly helping the rebellion. Anakin was sitting on his throne on Mustafar when you were dragged into the room occupied by two stormtroopers; he had no interest in a new wife.

His golden eyes bore into yours, burning into you as you knelt before him, examining, judging your appearance with a huff of boredom and stoicism. He knew you were supposed to be the picture of grace and virtue, as Palpatine had said, but your face was flushed, your dress torn, and your hair disheveled. He wondered what you'd done to be in that state. After all, his stormtroopers didn't just attack anyone, and they certainly wouldn't have attacked a general's daughter; it would have been unjustified. Anakin rose from his throne and approached you, his bearing serene, almost too serene. You noted how tall he was compared to you, and you couldn't deny that he was attractive, with his sharp jaw and golden curls. Yet you still despised him. He brought a gloved finger to your swollen lip, barely grazing the pink lip.

"I can't allow my future wife to look like this, right?" His tone was calm and indifferent, but it was evident that he was a little angry, but he remained patient "What happened?"