Author's Note: First off, I want to apologize for the delay in posting this chapter. Chapter 10 shouldn't have as much of a wait :) Secondly, thanks again for all of your feedback. You guys are seriously amaze. Thank you so much for reading!


Chapter 9

The Return

The muscles in Padmé's arms trembled as she clipped the last bit of charred wire from the computer's main hub. Though it had taken another night of careful work—and the constant fear that the Empire would show up on her doorstep—the inside was clean at least, and clean enough to see just how extensive the damage really was.

Padmé dropped the burned wire into a small pile of ruined parts and sank down with her back to the wall.

She had been in constant conflict with herself for the last day, packing and unpacking Sola's old suitcase whenever the urge to flee overtook the one to fight. With the hope of rewiring not entirely snuffed out, Padmé could justify taking a break. She pulled off her gloves, massaging her sore hands.

Through the window, the early evening sky was studded with its brightest stars, and Padmé's head throbbed from lack of sleep in time with their twinkling. She would only take a minute, rest her head against the softness of the curtain behind her, and then get back to work.

It will be slow…she thought for the thousandth time.

At least it no longer seemed impossible.

Padmé touched her japor snippet where it was tucked beneath the dark navy of her bodice. She closed her eyes, with a silent promise that she would make things right.

It wasn't until she was blinking in the muted light of morning that Padmé realized she had fallen asleep.

Bolting up after such long-needed rest made her head swim, but she fought to ignore it. How much time had passed?

A flicker of movement flashed in the window.

Enough, Padmé realized.

The Empire was back.

Blood pounded in her ears. The boat had pulled up, she was sure of it, but it was already at the dock, out of her eyeline, and she had no idea who it had carried across the water.

But Padmé intended to find out.


Anakin Skywalker may have been dead, but the part of him that loved Naboo lived on.

Vader took in the smell of summer flowers and the way that the lake shimmered in the early morning light, but neither could not untie the knot of anticipation in his stomach. Because better than those things, better than anything, was that Padmé was there.

It had been all Vader could do not to run to the villa the moment he'd made it across the lake.

But as he tied up the boat at the dock, and his gaze flickered over the wide expanse of water, unexpected concern clouded his mind.

The words of Sidious' transmission came back to him and, with them, a prickle of dread.

No.

It couldn't be.

Padmé was devoted to her cause, but she was careful. She had known that the Empire might return to Varykino. It wasn't likely she would risk everything that she believed in by leading Vader to the Jedi's door.

But she was desperate, Vader thought. Desperate enough to come with me…

He could remember the fourteen-year-old girl who had unseated a Chancellor, walked into danger against insurmountable odds, and knelt before an enemy leader to make peace, all so she could stand the smallest chance of saving her world.

And she had won.

Vader had always known how brave she was, but he had never realized how impulsive.

He would have been impressed if he weren't so worried.

On the water…Vader frowned, troubled.

No, it wasn't likely, but it was possible.

Vader didn't know what he would do if it were true.


Padmé was halfway down the steps of the outdoor staircase when she heard them.

Footsteps.

With a start, she descended the rest of the way and ducked into an alcove parallel to the balustrade. Shielded in the shadow of a statue, she strained to hear if someone was coming.

There was nothing.

Padmé took a hasty glance down the path and exhaled, thankful to see it was empty. There was a good chance she could get past the dock, through the gardens, and to a better vantage point if she moved quickly enough.

She steeled herself and turned the corner, rushing down the steps—

And straight into Darth Vader.

Padmé caught herself on his shoulders with a sharp gasp, certain she would send them into the water, but Vader was fast. He grasped a short stone column before they could fall, holding her upright.

Vader looked down at her, wide-eyed. His mechanical hand tightened where it gripped her hip and a jolt danced up Padmé's side in reaction. The heat of his skin felt like sunlight through his clothing.

Immediately, Padmé moved to step back, and Vader dropped his hold on her as if she'd burned him.

A sting of embarrassment ran through her, mingling with her sudden unease.

"Lord Vader." Padmé pushed a loose curl behind her ear, trying to reclaim some dignity. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you."

"No. I'm sorry, milady. I shouldn't have—" Vader cut himself off. He wouldn't look at her.

Was he angry?

Silence fogged between them. Padmé could still feel the ghost of his hand where he'd held her. Her skin tingled there.

Vader cleared his throat. "Do you usually run everywhere this early in the morning?"

A bolt of fear rattled Padmé to the bone. Did he suspect something?

Then Vader's eyes lit up, as if he were fighting to stay serious.

Padmé was dumbstruck.

"You're making fun of me…" she said.

"Of course not, milady." But Vader's stern expression crumbled away, breaking into a smile that was startling in its brightness. He ducked his head, as if he could hide it. "All right. A little."

Padmé felt lightheaded at the strangeness of it all.

And at the ease.

She shook her head. "I didn't know you were coming back."

Vader's eyes looked softer than she'd ever seen them, for once not shadowed and harsh. "I didn't either, but I received new orders from my master."

"Oh?" Padmé's apprehension rose.

"And I'm happy I did," Vader said.

Padmé swallowed. "Why is that, Lord Vader?"

Vader's eyes grew larger. "Well…without me here, you would have fallen in the lake."

The laugh he let out was breathless, almost self-deprecating, and Padmé couldn't help but laugh, too, in relief.

So he wasn't there to harm her after all.

Perhaps there was a chance that she could…

No. Your thoughts are far too reckless, Padmé warned herself.

But laughing with Vader felt as natural as drawing breath.

Her fingers strayed to the chain of her necklace and she hoped she could be brave.

For Anakin. For everyone like Anakin.

She was going to get Darth Vader's help, whether he was aware of it or not.

"Are you hungry?" Padmé asked. "I was going to make something."

Vader blinked at her.

Had she crossed a line?

Padmé recovered quickly. "Considering my status as an Imperial prisoner, I understand if you aren't permitted to—"

"No. I mean, yes, I'd—Yes," Vader said. "I'd like that."


Padmé lingered in the doorway when Vader entered the kitchen, taking in the strange sight of him with his black robes and evil eyes amid the gleaming appliances beneath each counter and the flowering plants in the windows. Vader stood awkwardly, neither sitting down nor standing near any furniture, as if he knew how out of place he looked.

"I hope you don't mind rehydrated grain," Padmé said. "It's all I have."

Vader trailed her to the counter. "Not at all."

Padmé could feel his eyes on the back of her neck as she retrieved the capsules from their storage container. She glanced back at him and he looked away, moving to a nearby window.

Vader stared out at the waterfalls in the far-off meadow. "It's beautiful here, right on the water…"

Padmé only nodded. He was watching her again, but her thoughts were elsewhere, on finding the right words and deciding how to say them. She paid him no mind.

"Do you need any help?" Vader asked.

Surprised, Padmé handed him a bowl and a capsule to rehydrate in it.

"It feels so strange," she said. "Being here, making this every day. Especially now…I remember doing this with my family when I was a little girl."

"I know what you mean. I used to do this with my mother."

Padmé tried to hide how much that threw her.

Darth Vader was an entity without origin, a horror story that lurked in the Outer-Rim and emerged to bring blood and terror to an unsuspecting galaxy.

Padmé had never imagined him as someone's son.

"I'm sure she was grateful for it," she said. "I got caught up in politics when I was so young. After a while, I wasn't able to help with this kind of thing. I missed it."

"I did, too," Vader said quietly. "I always wanted to help…I never minded."

Padmé felt a flicker of guilt at the wistful note in his voice. She hadn't meant to bring up something painful.

She hesitated and spoke. "Then it's a good thing you're here. Maybe we can both make up for lost time."

Vader emerged from whatever memory he was stuck in, his expression unreadable. "Maybe."

He followed her to the table, each of them carrying a bowl of rehydrated mush.

Before Padmé could sit, Vader set his bowl down and circled back to her side.

She went still as he closed in on her, her eyes darting along the powerful line of his shoulders. She had felt for herself how strong he was. Vader didn't need the Force to do her serious injury. Padmé's breath hitched when he reached for her, only for him to pull her chair back.

Slowly, she sat.

"Thank you," Padmé said.

"You're welcome, milady."

Her heartbeat was still skittering.

They began eating in silence. The rehydrated food tasted stale from its years in storage. Padmé took small bites, trying to keep it down and quiet her growling stomach, but she was almost too nervous to eat. Vader tucked in as if he didn't notice the taste.

"This is good," he said after a moment.

Padmé raised an eyebrow.

"Well, no," Vader admitted, "it's lousy, but trust me, I've had worse."

"Really? I can hardly imagine." Padmé smiled and Vader took a defiant bite.

"I don't eat solid food much anymore," he said. "I miss chewing."

"What do you mean?" Padmé asked.

"The Empire encourages efficiency," Vader said, as if reciting. He smirked. "Eating on the job isn't very efficient. One of the Imperial scientists in the officer's training division came up with the idea of liquid nutritional supplements as a daily substitute for three meals."

"Does that work?" Padmé asked, admittedly curious.

"It works," Vader said, "but they taste like rotten bantha meat."

Padmé wrinkled her nose before she could stop herself.

"So you see, milady," Vader said. "This isn't so bad."

"I know I've gotten used to it." Padmé glanced at him as she stirred her spoon through the grain.

"But you shouldn't have to. I can bring you better food," Vader said. "Whatever you like."

"No supplements?" Padmé said.

Vader laughed. "No, none of those. I promise."

"Well, as long as we've established a guideline…"

"Do you need anything else?" Vader asked. He sounded sincere enough.

Padmé's heart hammered. "I'd prefer it if I had more clothing."

For some reason, her request made Vader's mouth twitch.

"I don't keep much here," Padmé said. She inhaled. "And I have a droid—"

"No," Vader cut her off. "The Emperor would never allow it."

"Excuse me, I wasn't finished," Padmé said, not quite able to keep all of the bite from her voice. When Vader didn't speak, she went on, "This retreat is usually staffed by more than one person. I have an astromech droid, and it would be a great help to have him for domestic purposes. I can't see how Emperor Palpatine would object."

Vader looked skeptical.

"In any case," Padmé said, "it's quiet here."

Vader put down his spoon. "I'll bring you something else to eat and your clothes, but we'll see about the droid"

It wasn't the answer she'd been hoping for, but it wasn't a refusal either. Unthinking with relief, Padmé took a larger bite than she intended and made a face.

She almost didn't catch Vader's smile.