Title: Mausoleum Gates
Author: Wren Skywalker
Rating: PG
Notes: This is just a little post-ROTS fic, where Vader goes to visit Padme's grave, for one final goodbye. It's kind of angsty. ;) Reviews are love:D Also, in the 'flashbacks', I used some original lines of dialoge from the movies/ books. Those lines don't belong to me, neither do the characters, settings, etc. But I think we all knew that. ;)
Mausoleum Gates
The night wind was bitter. Anakin Skywalker would have recoiled at the cold, and turned to his wife for comfort and support. But not this new, reborn Lord Vader. As he made his way through the streets of Theed City, he was not bothered by the chilly air; he embraced it. Pushing on with his quest, he tried with all of his new-found powers not to think of her, the reason he was on Naboo in the first place.
"You're cold, aren't you?"
He looked up at the sound of her voice. He wanted to be brave for her, and deny the foolish 'cold', but it was impossible to lie to her.
"A little," he said, giving her his best smile. She moved toward him with a heavy red blanket, but as she knelt down to cover him, he realized that her presence was enough.
"You're from a warm planet, Ani, much too warm for my taste." She returned his smile with a radiant one of her own. He looked up, to meet her eyes, and at that moment, he knew.
Leaves crunched under Lord Vader's boots as he entered a lush garden at the city's edge. He cursed himself-- and Anakin Skywalker, angry for not being able to control his recollections. He was angrier, however, that the memory registered a deep ache in the core of his human parts.
She'd been dead for five days, dead at the hands of her husband. He was often haunted by nightmares of what he'd done, and his master could sense his distraction. So he'd come to Naboo, to find her burial spot, and put an end to this foolishness. He would play Anakin Skywalker on last time, and say goodbye to her. Then he would no longer be plagued by memories and nightmares; after he did this, she would fade into the dark shadows, and Anakin Skywalker would be wholly and completely dead.
He leaned on the baulastrade, watching her watch the water. Her face was bathed in a warm glow, and the faint scent of wildflowers radiated from her hair. Her hands were folded delicately in front of her, and he felt a strong desire to touch them, to engulf them in his own and marvel at it all.
She turned her head a little to look at him, her lips curved in a soft smile. She began to speak of her swimmings in the lake as a girl, and how she would lay on the sand for hours, listening to the birds.
"I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating, and it gets everywhere," he said in reply, dryly. Then, in an almost whisper, "But not like here. Here everything is soft, and smooth."
And suddenly he drowned in the moment-- the sunshine, the warm breeze, all of it-- and he touched her. He brought a shaking hand to her back, and gently, like a kiss of air, moved his hand up and down along her warm, exposed skin.
She did not protest or pull away, just looked up at him with sparkling brown eyes. He felt that he was drawn to her, almost magnetically, and leaned in to bring his lips to hers. Her kiss made him lovesick, and he felt as if he could stay frozen in that moment forever.
Vader blinked his fire-singed eyes, clawing at the bittersweet memory, trying to kill it as he had... as he had killed her. He blinked again, and the pain that had begun to develop inside of him was gone.
He ended his search for her tomb at the bottom of a small hill, with an elegant black iron fence around its perimeter. He could feel her presence in this place as he looked up at her burial chamber. It was a modest-sized structure, made of white marble, adorned with Nubian goddesses carved in gold. Above the door was her name, inscribed forever in stone: Padme Amidala Naberrie. He bit down on his tongue, tasting blood; he found he was angered that her true name was not shown; there was no 'Skywalker' after Naberrie.
He brought a gloved hand to the fence's gate, but it swung open before he could touch it. He entered the gates and made the long walk up the hill, to her intricate palace of marble. When he approached the door to her chamber, it swung open as well, revealing a large, open room, also white marble, with columns at its four corners and ancient Nubian prayers of passage etched on the ceiling. In the very center of the room, on the floor, was a granite stone, under which he knew she was buried. All around the chamber were baskets, bundles, and bouquets of beautiful flowers, all native to Naboo, gifts from the people to their beloved former queen.
When he stepped into the room, the door shut behind him with a sound creak, as if she wanted to keep him there with her. The sound of his boots on the glossy marble floor echoed around the walls and ceiling, and he almost thought he heard her voice echoing with it.
Coming to the middle of the room, he slowly and methodically knelt beside her stone. He was very suddenly hit with the strong scent of wildflowers, and choked down a memory of a rainy day, spent at home with her...
He focused his eyes on the words carved into the granite and traced them, almost lovingly, with his fingers. Her name and dates of existence were there, along with a short inscription: "Here rests Padme Amidala Naberrie, along with her unborn children. Loved dearly by her people and coveted by her planet, she is gone in body but remains with us forever in spirit."
The words "unborn children" stung visciously at his eyes, as he knew that her unborn children were his children, also.
She trembled in his arms, and he thought he saw fear flicker across her face. The smile left him.
"What's happened? You're trembling," he questioned, his pulse quickening. She stumbled with words for a moment, and the fear surfaced.
"I'm- Ani, I'm... pregnant." Her voice quivered.
He was dumbfounded. "That's... wonderful. Wonderful," he said at last, his tone considerably lighter.
She looked up at him with big eyes. "What are we going to do?"
He took her in his arms again and gently stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head.
"We're going to be a family," he said with pride.
It was the happiest moment of his life, the best moment. It was the greatest gift of love he could ever hope for.
Vader blinked, and the memory was gone, although he found himself trying to hold onto it. The knowledge that his children were dead, also, made him ache, and he slammed a fist on the ground, saying "No!" as if he simply would not let it be.
And finally, something within him snapped. The bridge between Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader crumbled, and his mind was a sea of raw emotion and memories. Suddenly, he missed her. He longed for her, he wanted her to be with him more than he could ever want anything in his entire life. His heart was like lead; he knew she was gone. Their children-- the lives they had created together, the two beings that would mean 'love' to them, forever-- were gone. Gone at the clentching of his fist. All this new power he had, the power to kill, destroy, and control, was nothing compared to the powerful mark her love had left on him.
His eyes burned with a salty wetness as he stood and looked one last time at her granite stone. He was done. He'd come to see her one final time, ready to leave his memories of her, of them, at the mausoleum gates. But he loved her. He would always love her. And he couldn't let go. He couldn't make her let go, either.
He stepped closer, ready to say what he needed to say, and he finally let himself speak her name.
"Padme," he said, his mechanical voicebox straining to say the odd syllables. "Padme. I miss you. I am sorry for- what I did to you, and to- our children. You never deserved that. I want--" He paused, collecting his 'breath'. "I wanted you to know that."
He lifted his head and began to walk out of the chamber, knowing he would never return. When he reached the door, it opened slowly by itself. He paused in the doorway.
"Goodbye, my love," he said, as soft as he could, and stepped outside, walking down the hill and never once looking back. The wind was cold as ever, and he remembered his first night away from his mother, so long ago, the night he gave a beautiful girl a necklace of carved japor...
"My caring for you will always remain."
The gates of the mausoleum eased shut behind him, and Lord Vader made his way out of the gardens, the scent of wildflowers still hanging in the air.
