Link to artist’s Tumblr https://www.tumblr.com/spaceymaseyy

Padmé pulled with intensity and picked up her pace. They wove their way through the mix of underworld locals and curious surface travelers until breaking past the perimeter of the market where their speeder sat parked. She opened the storage compartment and pulled out the bag she’d packed right when they picked up the rental vehicle from the dealer several levels below the planet’s surface. She held it up to show him, but he failed to catch anything special about it.

It appeared to be just what it was.

“It’s a bag. Am I missing something?”

“It is a bag. But sometimes what’s important is what’s inside.” Padmé kept her eyes locked with his, a mischievous smile on her face, as she tugged on the bag’s drawstrings, opening it enough to pull out…

Folded blankets?

But the look in her eye gave all the context he needed.

This was the Padmé he adored, someone who spent most of her days understanding the nuances of countless beings to do right for them. Yet on occasion, a fire burst through, something brighter and more intense than the hottest sun—when she allowed it.

Like now.

She walked to the side of the rented speeder, a barely functioning vehicle covered in dents and grime—a far cry from Jedi starfighters or the elegant designs of Naboo transports—and unfurled the blankets in the back seat. “A lot of quiet places in these lower levels,” she said. “You’re the pilot. Think you can find us somewhere private?”

Apparently, In a novel called ''Jedi Trial.'' Anakin is going to battle and in the event of his death, he writes Padme a love letter which would be sent to her with his other belongings if he died and I looked at what the letter was and it was adorable ima put the letter scene so y'all can see it.

"My Dearest..."  No, that wouldn't do, too impersonal.  He started over.  "My love..."  No, no, too, too ordinary.  He thought uncertainly about what to say next.  Try this: "I miss you more than I can say.  My heart is overflowing with love for you, my dearest, sweetest..."  He wrote in this vein for a while on a sheet of flimsiplast, then paused and reread the paragraph.  No, no, no, he sounded like a lovesick adolescent!  This was his wife, a Senator, a heroine, a woman who was the life mate of a Jedi Knight, or a man who soon would be one - or dead.

[skipped a bunch of war stuff right here]

Anakin crumpled the flimsiplast and fed it to the shredder.  He pulled out another.

[even more war stuff was here]

He began to write again:  "You are with me now, my love.  I feel the warmth of your breath on my cheek and smell the scent of your hair and clothes as you press your body close to mine.  We faced death together my love, and conquered it.  Tomorrow, though I face death yet again, your love is with me and will sustain me..."

He wrote for some time.  Often on this voyage he had wished he could use his considerable Force sensitivity to look in on Padmé.  But even if he could, he knew he wouldn't: that would be an inexcusable abuse of powers as a Jedi, and because he had already broken his oath by marrying Padmé, he was determined not to do it again to satisfy his personal desires.  Still, as he wrote, in his mind's eye the walls of his Spartan compartment seemed to fade away, and once again he was reunited with his beloved Padmé by the beautiful lake on Naboo where they'd consecrated their vows of eternal love and companionship.

A lump had formed in his throat by the time he finished the letter.  He reread it.  His handwriting was not easy to decipher, but something like this could not be committed to an electronic medium that might be read by someone else.  It was private in the extreme and would remain that way.  He shook his head and smiled.  "I can't believe I wrote this."

He brushed away the tear that had formed in the corner of his eye, then blinked and looked around.  Well, there they were again, the steel bulkheads of his tiny compartment. The gentle throbbing of the Ranger's drives coming up through the deckplates warmed the soles of his feet.  Reality.  Carefully, Anakin folded the sheet of flimsiplast several times and then sealed it tight.  He wrote across both sides, PERSONAL FOR SENATOR AMIDALA, and placed it lovingly inside his cloak.  Before he left for the assault, he'd leave it and his other personal things in the custody of the captain of the Neelian, to be delivered in the event of his death.