Chapter Ten: The Lunch
Vader wrapped an arm around Padmé's shoulders and led her from Rion's cell. Just as they reached the door, she glanced behind her to get one last look at Rion. She made sure his chest was rising and falling, before she was pulled out of the room and the door swished shut. She let out a long sigh as she looked up at Vader. He still had the warm small smile on his lips.
He thinks he's doing me some kind of kindness, she mused to herself. Vader led her down the hallway of the detention block, but not back the way they came. They went further down the hallway of cells. She couldn't help but frown.
She wondered when his next game would start to play out. She figured that the outfit, Rion's cell, the prosthetic limbs, were merely the start. She hated not knowing, but she started to mentally steel herself for what was to come next. What else could the horrible man ask of her? A cold fear ran through with the thought of what it could possibly be.
Sadly the only way she would know was to keep walking down the hall of cells. They came to the end of the hallway. In front of them stood a door and Vader pressed the door panel. The door slid open and the two walked in. The room was not that deep. It was thin and bit long. The far wall held two durasteel shutters, clearly made to slide back. Padmé realized this was some type of viewing room, but a viewing room for what? It was the detention block. Was it an interrogation room beyond? An execution room?
Though what was most unsettling was the small table set up in the middle of the room. It was a round table with a white tablecloth draped over it. Two chairs sat on either side. The table was set with fine looking dinnerware. Nearby stood a trolley with cloche covered plates and a bucket of ice with a bottle of wine in it.
"Ah our lunch," Vader said light heartedly. As if this was a normal occurrence. Just a light lunch between a married couple. Vader walked to one of the chairs and stood behind it. He guesterd to the other empty chair.
Padmé felt numb. She felt like she had to manually work her lungs into breathing. If she didn't tell herself to take a breath, her body might not breath on its own. It felt like she moved in slow motion as she sat down in the chair opposite of Vader.
His smile never left his face as watched her. Once she was seated, he picked up the domed-covered plates and sat one in front of her as himself. He then popped the cork on the wine and poured them both a glass. As he reached out to lift the cloches from the plates, Padmé couldn't help but remember the last time this scene had played out. Underneath the plate covering had been Rion's foot. The price she had paid for refusing to sleep Vader.
Vader pulled the cloches off the plates. Underneath was a normal looking meal. Padmé let out a sigh of relief. Vader placed the cloches back on the trolley and sat down. At once he started to eat, but Padmé only looked at the food. She had no appetite. Her inside felt tight as dread and fear boiled inside of her.
"Not hungry, my angel?" Vader asked after taking a sip of his wine. "You haven't eaten anything at all today. You must be hungry. I recommend the fish."
Padmé glanced down at the square cut of seared fish on her plate. For the first time, she became aware of the smell of the food. The smells traveled down her throat, which seemed to constrict and widen. She felt nauseous. If she ate anything or even put a single morsel in her mouth, she was certain she would throw up.
Vader put down his fork and looked over at her. He sighed and shook his head softly. "Was seeing him making you that distraught?" Vader asked. His voice was still warm. When he started to speak, Padmé had tensed up. She was ready for his fake concern to drop. For the monster he really was to slither out. A small moment passed before he spoke up again. "I did say we could discuss making that pathetic man's life better. But I see this whole thing has you too worked up."
"No," she said softly but sternly. Vader's yellow eyes never left her. His smile grew a small bit.
"Very well," he said. "What is it that you want for that man, Padmé?"
She just stared at him. She wasn't sure what he was playing at. What did she want for Rion? For him to be free. For not be involved in any of this. He was innocent. Yet he was being punished for her supposed crimes against this monster. Yet she didn't voice this.
As if reading her thoughts, she knew he could, Vader spoke up. "I can't let him be free. You know that. But I can make his life better. Give him the prosthetics. Bring him out of a coma. Give him a room instead of a cell. At least make his life a comfortable prisoner."
"That's sounds . . ." Padmé glanced down at her lap. " . . . very generous of you." She took a deep breath gathering her courage. She was ready to move this along.
"It is," he said pleased.
"What is the price of what you're suggesting?"
He paused and he looked back at the door. As if he was looking down the hallway, back to Rion's cell. "I believe all of those things could be earned in time, as long as you continue to stay in your place." He glanced back at over at her. "Perhaps I let you earn one thing right now? Shall you take him out of his coma? Give him one of the prosthetics? Move him into a better cell? I'll let you choose."
She couldn't stop the small chuckle that left her lips. She was painfully aware of his words. He was pinning this all on her. It was all her doing. None of this was his doing. Only she could make Rion's life better, for as Vader believed it was she who had brought Rion into this mess. Each and every of Rion's wounds was her fault. It was her fault she had left Vader, slept with Rion, and thus caused Vader to injure and mutilate the man.
"You still haven't named the price for such a thing," she answered bringing her head up straighter. "None of this is about what I want. It's not even about Rion," she said in a low voice. "This is all about you. What is it that you want, your majesty? What is it that you want from me?"
"Still the politician, my love," he said smiling.
She bit back the reply she wanted to throw at him. She wanted to tell him he was still the sadist playing around with people. He was still the cruel man she met back in the cell who gleefully sliced off a man's arm.
"Very well," Vader said breaking Padmé out of her thoughts. "I'll name my price. It's quite simple. I want to know what happened when I left for Mustafar." She took in a sharp intake of air. No longer was his face amused. His eyes bore into her. He was serious. "I always thought you left me, but you claim it was I that left you."
"What?" she asked a bit taken aback by his statement. "When did I ever say-"
He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "In your first days here. When you still had your fever. You called my name, crying, asking why I left you."
She glanced down as she desperately tried to recall the conversation, but she couldn't. Was he lying to her? Or did she say such things? She didn't know. Her fever had been strong. There were gaps in her memory during that time as she faded in between consciousness and dreams.
"I know you were speaking the truth," his voice was low. Almost a whisper. "Why is it you think I left you? I want to know the truth. The whole truth."
She couldn't go down this path. This was leading to a place she wouldn't allow her to take him.
"Was it Obi-Wan?" His voice was low and dangerous. His eyes seemed to have taken on a red tint around the rim. The temperature in the room seemed to cooled. "You've already mentioned some of what happened, my love. You said he came to you. Said he wanted to kill me. You left for Mustafar to warn me, but that is where the story ends. In your fevered words it wasn't clear what happened next. You said you blacked out. You said when you came to I was gone. That I had left you."
She stared wide-eyed at him. She couldn't believe she had told him that much about the events of five years ago. She couldn't believe she told him a word. How had he gotten it out of her? What horrible mind tricks did he perform? However, she gave a quick and silent prayer to her gods. She hadn't told him everything.
She had to think quick. He was not going to let this go. She was going to have to give some of the truth up, which was fine by her.
"You did leave me!" she blurted out. She let the pain and hurt ring out in her words. He didn't react, just continued to stare at her cooly. "You were gone!" She placed her hands on the table and braced herself and stood up. He still didn't move or react. "The man I loved was gone. And this," she nodded at him, "had replaced him."
Her eyes were starting to water, but she continued. "Yes, Obi-Wan came to me the day the Republic died. The day Palpatine became Emperor. He told me he was going to kill you. I couldn't let that happen! So I went to find you, but . . . but . . ." The tears were starting to fall. "When the ship exited hyperspace above Mustafar. I . . . I . . . blacked out. I don't know. I don't remember!"
Vader stood up and walked to stand next to her. She could feel the warmth of his body in the cold room. She could hear his even breathing. She looked at him. His stern face and frown were blurry through her tears.
"I woke up two months later," she continued. "And my husband was gone! Anakin was gone!" She used the name. She didn't care what it earned her. Her fear had been overwritten by her anger and grief. "Instead there was you. Vader. You had left me. You left me for power."
He brought his hands up and placed them on her shoulders. She flinched expecting the hands to grip into her. To find him angry and forceful, but the hands just gently rested on her. She blinked through her tears to get a good look at his face. Did he look a bit remorseful?
"I never left you," he said. His voice was soft. It sounded a bit sad.
"Don't lie," she said. She tried to step back, away from him, but his hands gripped her shoulders. Preventing her from stepping away. "You're not him. You admit it yourself. You're not Anakin. Each time I use that name, I get reminded by a bloody gift that you are Vader."
"Anakin Skywalker was weak!" he roared. "Anakin couldn't save you, so I destroyed him."
Again Padmé tried to take a step back, but again she couldn't due to his strong grip. She looked up at the man once known as Anakin. His gold eyes seem to glow down at her.
"Save me?"
"I did this all for you. All for us!" His grip was digging into her. It was starting to hurt. "I wasn't going to lose you the way I lost my mother! I've become more powerful than any Jedi or Sith has ever dreamed of! I did it for you! To protect you!"
"No . . ." she said softly shaking her head.
"Don't you see, Padmé?" he continued. "I've brought peace to the galaxy. I've made things the way I want them to be. Together you and I can rule the galaxy."
"Obi-Wan was right all along," she whispered in horror hearing his words.
"Obi-Wan," he hissed. "Obi-Wan took you from me! He turned you against me!"
"No," she said. Her voice was calm and steady, but it rose until she was shouting as she continued. "You did that yourself. You did that when you killed the Jedi. When you killed younglings. When you killed Palpatine! When you killed millions of innocents who dared defy you!"
A tense silence fell between them. Their eyes locked. His eyes burned yellow, yet she didn't look away. She didn't want to be the one to back down. To cower.
"You will come to see everything I have done for you," Darth Vader said in a low tone. "You will come to appreciate everything. You will accept your place by my side."
"No," she said a bit sadly. "I can't. I can't follow you down this path."
"You don't have a choice," he hissed.
"What happened to wanting a willing wife?" she scoffed.
"I'll have it," he growled. "I'll have it all. My empire. My wife. My children."
Instant fear spiked through her as ice pumped through her body. She couldn't. She wouldn't. The one thing she couldn't let him have. The one thing, the one very thought, she kept hidden inside of herself.
He leaned forward so his face was closer to hers. "Now tell me, my angel," he snarled. "Where are my children?"