A/N: This is a prompt I wrote on an AU idea where Padme survives past Mustafar and becomes a rebel leader while Anakin somehow evades being encased in his death bot suit (don't ask me how). Please enjoy this angsty drabble of these two coming face-to-face :D
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?" Padme narrows her eyes as she tilts her head up at him.
She looks at him, searching for any resemblance of the man she knew. It is his face that stares back at him, rabid and fervent. No, not his face; she reminds herself. Darth Vader's face.
"Li-like–like I'm A MONSTER!" He slams his fist on the table, startling her.
She draws a breath in, closing her eyes tightly. Her fingers trace her neck, as she forces herself to remember who she's dealing with.
"Padme." He says her name.
She doesn't listen. She can barely breathe as she recalls helplessly floating off the ground–
"Padme!" He grips her hand, pulling her back into reality.
She blinks, focusing once more.
"Yes?" She asks, attempting to regain whatever dignity she still retains.
"Padme, please understand," He squeezes her hand harder, "That all that I did–I did it for you, Padme."
He looks at her expectantly, seeking some sort of validation for his deeds.
But she stares at him and only asks, "Why?"
He blinks at her, unsettled by the question. Confusion quickly settles into hurt. He is hurt that she would even dare ask the question. But she only stares stubbornly at him, waiting for his answer.
"'Why?'" He repeats the question, "Because I love you, Padme. Because I could never dare to see you die."
She laughs. Bitterly.
"Everyone dies," She states, "Every sentient being has an end. My life was not worth the cost of thousands of others."
As leader of the rebellion, Padme carries many secrets. But there is only secret that is exclusive to her and it is this; she wished she was dead. She was the catalyst to the end of the Republic. She is the reason that many are in bondage to the Empire. How ironic it was. Padme Amidala, an advocate for liberty, caused the downfall of the republic.
"There was no other way," The former shell of her husband insists, "I had no other options. I had to save you. I love you, Padme."
"I wished I never loved you!" She spat, tearing her hand away from his.
He doesn't like the sound of that. She doesn't need the force to know that he is radiating in anger. He stands up abruptly, his hand reaching towards her. She closes her eyes, ready for the force-choke. She is ready for the sweet release of death.
But nothing happens. She slowly opens her eyes to see that he is visibly shaking.
'Anakin—" She quickly shuts her mouth, turning away from him. She will not show sympathy to the monster.
In the end, he does not harm her. The table and chairs in the room instead bore the blunt of his anger. Their remains almost pierce her as they fly about the room.
He says nothing as he storms off, leaving her alone in the wreckage. It is only when she is certain he is far away that she slumps to the ground. All the tears she's been holding back, suddenly come rushing and she can't stop sobbing.
She shouldn't love him still. He is lost—he is too irredeemable. But she still loves him still, for what he was once was, what he could still be—
No. She forcefully tells herself. She cannot afford to think that way. She has a rebellion to run, mistakes to be fixed.
Mistakes like loving Anakin Skywalker. It was their reckless, foolish, naïve love that caused the republic to fall. That effected millions across the stars, over and around the whole universe.
Padme Amidala wants to die. She craves death, to be free of this darkness. But she can't die just yet. She can't rest until the galaxy is at peace again.