Warning: This chapter is rated M for sensitive subjects and content. If you don't like or get offended easily, please don't read.
Chapter Ten: Desperation
She was absolutely crazy. She knew she had been cracking for a while, but now she had finally snapped. It couldn't be helped. She'd been alone for so long it made sense. But oh how she wished she could have held on to sanity for just a little bit longer!
It had all started the day after she had first had lunch with Cory. Rumor about Cotrilla's little rendezvous with Captain Oquier in the 'fresher had spread throughout the senate like wildfire. The poor woman could hardly walk into a room without people barely stopping their whisperings about her. Some still whispered when she was in the room. Even though she didn't like her, Padmé felt terrible for the other senator. In a way, this was her fault. She'd been the one to discover them. Had she not been so curious as to what the sound was, no one would have found them. Well…maybe someone would have.
But what was so annoying was the fact that everyone talked about it. She couldn't get away from the talk. All anyone seemed capable of speaking about was the scandal. It was annoying. It made her feel horrible because, for whatever reason, she couldn't stop trying to see the event from Ritia's point of view. Maybe she had a good reason? Desperation could lead a person to go to the extremes.
Which brought her back to insanity. As she'd been pondering over a new plan to get information to the Alliance, it had come to her as a simple thought, one spawned of boredom, desperation, and sarcasm. But even though it had originally been more of a joke, it had stuck. No matter how hard she tried to forget it, it wouldn't go away. It was so ludicrous, crass, and just plain suicidal that it had been burned her into her brain. It scarred her and she dreamed about it.
No, no, no, she shook her head for the millionth time. This had to stop, before she actually went through with it.
But here she was, sitting up late at night, thinking about him. What made it all the more terrifying was the fact that she was becoming pathetically desperate. When Padmé became desperate, she did very crazy things. Things that were dangerous and could very well make her regret.
Padmé Naberrie Amidala wasn't exactly known for playing it safe. If she had, Naboo might have been completely taken over by Separatists or worse by now. She could never sit down while she could do something to help. Like now. It was her moral obligation to get this information to the Alliance. She had to do whatever it took. Even if it was crazy. Even if she would never be able to live with herself again…
Padmé stood and went to stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was down and she was in her nightgown. It was twenty-three hundred hours. Lord Vader had gotten back several hours ago. He'd been gone for nearly a week, and during all that time she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. About this insane plan.
I can't do this, she sighed, grabbing the counter of the sink for support. How could she? It was crazy! It would never work! And yet the idea just would not let her rest.
But the more she thought about it, the more it appeared as though it were her only option. She hadn't been able to talk Arlo or Cory into anything with Vader gone. Vader was the heart and soul of all of this anyway. If she were going to try and trick or negotiate anything, it had to be with him. And even though the Sith had infamously told her that he didn't negotiate, she was going to make him listen to her. She just needed to have the proper leverage over him, the proper bribe, even if she didn't like the term.
This would only make her look like a hypocrite, she knew. After the way she'd yelled at him a week ago, how she berated Cotrilla. But the other woman had been right. Padmé had been living in a dream, a place where she thought talking reasonably and pointing out facts would be good enough. It wasn't. Not with men like Vader. Power was the only thing the Sith cared about. And there was only one power that he didn't have that Padmé could give.
She let her head drop to her chest. But could she give it to him? Sleeping with Darth Vader was not only crazy, it was potentially deadly. He could very well kill her after he'd used her. But she had to try. She could negotiate this with him. An hour of unscreened, unmonitored conversation with friends every day in exchanged for giving her body to him every night.
It would never work. Vader would be too suspicious. He would know she was up to something, or that she could get up to something. And there was the obvious fact that thus far he hadn't responded positively to being touched. Hard to bribe anyone with sex if they didn't like being touched. And then there was the ambiguity of his sexuality and species. Would he even be interest? Thus far he'd appeared asexual, and if he wasn't, were their species even compatible? She'd never seen him respond to women of any species at all. He was always indifferent. He would never go for this.
But what if he did?
She'd had dreams of this for almost a full week now, ever since the thought had entered her head. Nightmares, really. But they were always the same. She refused to put aside her pride, put her reputation in front of everything and everyone else, and the galaxy had suffered for it. Her family had suffered. Even though she wasn't sure why, Padmé had the desperate feeling that this information had to get to the Alliance. She was only one person in the grand scheme of things. Her life was insignificant compared to the whole. So what if she suffered? So what if she even died? Her life wasn't worth endangering the galaxy. She had to try.
Brown eyes opened to stare at her reflection in the mirror. Piercing panic and revulsion shot through her. How could she do this? She would be ashamed of herself for the rest of her life if she did this. That is, if Vader didn't kill her before that. Vader was the vilest creature she could image, save perhaps the Emperor. Could she really live with herself if she allowed him to touch her in the most intimate manner possible? What would she tell her future husband? Could she ever look into any man's eyes again and not be reminded of him? Could she look into anyone's eyes again and not feel disgust for herself?
Vader wouldn't go for this. She'd been watching him for months and nothing had pointed to her that he was interested in being physical with anyone. People were expendable to him, and he'd said himself that he only kept droids here in his wing. Ritia had tried flirting with him and he'd only shown contempt and hatred. He hadn't treated Padmé much better.
That's not true, an annoyingly analytical voice in her head reminded. He'd choked her that first day, yes, but since then he hadn't touched her much. He'd grabbed her shoulders a week ago, but eased his grip, as though realizing he was hurting her. And the same day, he'd guided her into the speed, touching her back ever so slightly. But those could have been nothing. They were nothing. But he'd also let her get away with yelling at him, talking back, being late, giving into her demands when she'd wanted her things back, and more peculiarly, he'd saved her that one day when Ritia had come to her office to yell at her. He'd also allowed her to eat in the cafeteria even though he hated it. What did it all mean?
These instances were not consistent with his reputation. But then, what was? Darth Vader did whatever the hell Darth Vader wanted. Staying within the norm didn't apply to him.
The more she thought about this crazy plan, the more reasons for it to fail kept popping up in her mind, but also, the more she felt she needed to try. There was something telling her to go for it. Her gut, despite churning with fear and loathing, was telling her she had to do this. Padmé Naberrie Amidala did not give into fears, and she did not ignore her gut feelings.
She would hate herself for the rest of her life, she knew that, but at the same time, she'd hate herself if she didn't do this. It was a choice between hating herself for the rest of her life or hating herself for all eternity. This is important! she kept chanting to herself, even as she made sure all her makeup was still in place. This was her most desperate hour, and there were no Jedi around to help this time. This time, Padmé had to do this. Alone.
When she entered her bedroom again, she grabbed her outer silk robe and pulled it on, tying it at the side. She began to shake, but she swallowed her fear. This was wrong, but it had to be done. As she walked out into the hall, she repeated the story she would tell over and over in her head. She had to make this convincing.
A gasp escaped when the door at the end of the hall opened. She spun around in a panic, afraid that it was the Dark Lord himself. She wasn't ready to face him just quite yet! But to her relief, it was merely C-3PO scuttling out of Vader's quarters.
The moment the droid saw her, he came bustling over. "Good evening, my lady! Do you need anything?"
"Yes, I…" she trailed off, trying to find her courage. "Um…D-do you know where Lord Vader is?"
"He's in the conference room just there," the droid pointed to one of the doors down the hall.
"Oh. He's in a meeting? At this time of night?" Her more cowardice side was relieved. Maybe this could wait until tomorrow.
"Oh no," 3PO exclaimed cheerfully. "He's merely working on reports. Do you need to speak with him?"
"I…Yes. Yes I do." It was lucky that the protocol droid hadn't picked up on how nervous she was yet. Or maybe he had and just hadn't mentioned it.
"Well, I'm sure he has some time you could schedule for tomorrow. Should I inform him that you wish to set up a meeting?"
"No," Padmé shook her head, pulling her robe around herself more securely. "I need to speak with him now. Just for a minute. Do you think you can show me to the conference room?"
Of course 3PO was ecstatic to help her, and showed her to the door of the room immediately. She had to tell him several times that he didn't need to announce her or go in with her. This was just something she had to do on her own. So when the worried droid was finally away and going about his normal duties, Padmé took several moments outside of the door, taking deep breaths. She could do this. She had to do this. There was no other way. This was important and this information had to get to the Alliance. So after a final deep breath, she opened the door.
The room looked like any other: bland, clean, and completely empty save for a long table and chairs all around. Vader sat at the head on the other side by the window with pads and holos scattered all around. His head snapped up the moment the door opened. Padmé stayed just at the entrance.
They stared at one another for several long moments before Padmé plucked up some courage and simply said, "Good evening."
The Sith didn't respond, just stared, before looking back down at his work. "What do you want?"
His anger and rudeness was familiar in this unfamiliar situation. She latched on to it, strangely comforted by it. "May I come in?" she asked quietly.
"No," he replied shortly, already shutting down the holos that were up. "You are not to be in here while I'm working. This is classified information."
Naturally her curiosity was peaked, but she couldn't think about the secrets right before her now. Not with everything else going on in her mind. "I'm sorry," she apologized, forcing her voice to remain steady. "But I really need to talk to you."
"Then talk."
"In private."
The Sith looked over at her again, and it made Padmé wish she could see his expression. He'd be a lot easier to read if it weren't for that damned mask. "Senator," he said, crossing his arms. The act made him look arrogant when he sat as opposed to threatening like when he stood. It was obviously a habit, but it was strange how height made all the difference. "We are the only two sentient beings on this floor. How much more private could it be?"
Padmé forced herself not to squirm or feel embarrassed. Vader was in a strangely lenient mood at the moment, she should take advantage. It was rare, after all. Maybe she'd get to live to see tomorrow. "Please?" she asked, crossing her own arms, but more from being cold than to intimidation.
Vader paused before he gathered up all the pads around him and turned them off. He put them in a stalk beside him before turning back to her. In a strangely business-like gesture, he motioned for her to take a seat. It almost made her feel like she was a child at school again. But she did as commanded and sat a few chairs away from him.
When she didn't say anything, his impatience got the better of him. "Well?"
"Right," Padmé breathed. She could do this. She had to do this. "Look," she began, looking straight into his mask, right where his eyes should be. "I'm tired, lonely, and, quite frankly, I think I'm going insane." Vader didn't respond. "I need more human interaction."
The senator expected some sort of sneering remark from the Sith, but instead, he remained silent. It was irritating as much as it was unnerving. She decided to carry on. "Please, I want to be able to talk to my friends at lunch without having a Storm Trooper or you breathing down my neck."
"No."
Right. He'd been gone only a week, but she should have remembered his love of crushing hopes with only one word. "Lord Vader," she began again, "I'm seriously afraid I'm going to have a mental break down if I don't get some normal interaction with people that I care about. I-I'm so tired of having to watch what I say all the time for fear that it'll be taken the wrong way. I'm tired of only talking about business. What little conversation I have with anyone else only lasts a few minutes or is with Imperial Officers, Storm Troopers, or you. Keeping me locked away like this is not healthy. I want to be able to talk to my family, to see my friends!"
Padmé had gone over all of this before speaking to the Sith in hopes that he would not suspect her of having any ulterior motives. It wasn't until then when there were tears stinging her eyes that she realized that a great portion of her reasons for even attempting her newest plan was mostly because she really did miss everyone. She was so lonely she hurt. Even Vader, as mechanical as he was, should be able to see that, to hear the truth in her voice.
The Sith, however, appeared to be unmoved by her display. "No."
"An hour a day," she pleaded on. "That's all. Just one hour. Maybe at lunch. Just one hour where I'm not being suffocated by security. Please!"
"No. Now get out."
"How can you be this way?" she cried, now unable to stop herself. She'd bottled it up for so long, she was cracking. She couldn't help the tears that ran down her cheeks, she was just so angry. Angry at him and at herself, for what she was going to do. "I've been held captive for nearly three months. Months and I haven't done anything wrong! I've played the Emperor's little game, but I'm sick and tired of it! I need to see other people! This isn't healthy!"
Vader remained still. If he was uncomfortable with the scene she was making, she didn't care. It felt good to be able to yell at him like this. She'd been silent over this too long.
"I have no one now! I can't speak to my friends or family, and those friends I can, you've scared too much that they will hardly look at me! You've sent away my handmaiden, and I have only my droid now. Please, if you've ever had a heart, listen to me!"
"Your pleas are wasted on me, Senator," Vader snapped, sounding especially harsh. But something in Padmé told her to keep pressing. Despite the anger she heard, she knew she had to keep trying.
"Please," she ignored his words. "I-I know what I said the other day, but you leave me no choice. I've never done this…" Kriff, was she really going to do this? "I don't want something for nothing," she explained carefully, angrily wiping her tears away.
The Sith stiffened. "You're bribing me?"
"No," Padmé became still, emotionless. "A trade."
Now Vader seemed interested. She didn't know how she knew considering that he still had the mask and he didn't look any different, but he felt different. The air was still dark and angry, but she thought she could catch a hint of curiosity. That was good. As long as he was curious he wouldn't dismiss or hurt her. Maybe that's another thing they had in common: they both were too curious for their own good.
"And what do you possibly have to trade?" he asked. "I already own all that which I want. And money is but an object to me, one which I have excess of."
"Something that you can't buy." She was really doing this. "Something you don't have, and can never have unless you take me up on this offer right now."
For the first time since knowing him, Padmé watched as the Sith sat forward in his seat, lacing his hands together in front of him on the table. It was an oddly business-like posture, one that didn't look completely normal coming from him. She could hardly believe it. She, Padmé Naberrie Amidala, had Lord Darth Vader, Heir to the Empire, on the edge of his seat. If this wasn't such a grim occasion and she wasn't going to ruin herself, she might have found it amusing. As it was, she could only take notice and file it away for later.
"You are finally going to tell me what you know of the Rebel Alliance?" he asked deathly serious.
"No," she shook her head, several strands of hair falling into her face. "I don't know anything about them," anymore, she added silently to herself. That was true. The rebels changed codes frequently, and the moment word got out that she was being monitored, they had probably changed bases and everything. So what she said was completely true…from a certain point of view. Vader wouldn't be able to accuse her of lying.
Sadly, however, the air between them shifted, and the Sith was becoming more impatient and frustrated. The rather mild mood for the Dark Lord that had been before was evaporating faster than water on Mustafar. She had to act quickly or risk losing him completely. "Then you have nothing I want, Senator," he replied shortly, sitting up straight.
"I have one thing!" Padmé argued. "I know what I said the other day, and I've never done this before," she was rambling, but she couldn't stop, "but I'm desperate and it's all I have." Vader waited for her to continue as she tried to plucked up her courage. "I'll let you…sleep with me."
Silence.
The entire room became eerily still. Even Vader's breathing seemed to become too quiet. The air around the Sith was always cold, but suddenly it was freezing, and it froze Padmé in her place. Her heart stopped for one eternal instant. They stared at one another.
"Get out," he hissed.
Padmé gasped as the air seemed to shatter at his command, but knew she had to continue. "An hour a day is all I want, for a night. Or…or an hour for whenever you want me."
"Get. Out!"
"No one will have to know! I-I live here with you. You only have droids, no one will suspect a thing!"
The senator flinched when Vader shot to his feet. He was radiating rage, and she began to fear that she'd finally gone too far. He was going to kill her. She remembered his reaction with Cotrilla all too clearly, why had she thought he would be kinder to her? She should have known he'd be too insulted and enraged when any of this was suggested for him. But she had tried. Maybe R2 would be able to get the information to the Alliance somehow.
As she tensed, waiting for her death, she watched instead as Vader stormed out of the room, not sparing her a single glance. He left her gasping from the adrenaline rush. The moment he was gone, she felt abruptly empty and ashamed. More ashamed than she ever had in her life. She immediately burst into tears. Tears of relief, humiliation, and anger.
Running back into her bedroom, she fell into bed. She cried herself into a fitful sleep.
oOoOoOo
Padmé was startled awake when the door opened. At the sound of the door, followed by the hissing of a respirator, she was alerted to the arrival of her guest. Darth Vader had returned for her. But for what purpose, she didn't know.
Jumping to her feet, the senator felt a slight rush to her head. She didn't want to be caught lying down with the Sith in the room. She glanced over at the clock. It was one in the morning. What was he going to do to her? Was he here to kill her for the ultimate insolence?
Vader filled the doorway, the light from the hall flooding in behind him. They stood facing each other, Padmé's heart racing as she waited for his judgment. What would he do to her?
"I will agree to your conditions, Senator, on three conditions," his rumbling baritone shattered the silence. Padmé's eyes widened and she stopped breathing. She had to force herself to nod. This wasn't happening.
"One: You will have one hour a day to communicate with whomever you choose free of interference whenever you give me an hour every evening. Two: You will tell no one about this, or I will kill you. Three." He hesitated, as though he was also unable to believe he was agreeing to this. "You must always wear a blindfold when we…engage in each other's company. Are we clear?"
Padmé was shaking and there were tears in her eyes, but she nodded. She should be happy that her plan had worked, that she would soon be able to help her friends. But the moment was terribly bitter. She wondered if she would be able to stand the utter disgrace.
Hesitantly, Vader came into the room, the door sliding closed behind him. It all went dark, and only the sound was his respirator filling the air. She wouldn't have been able to see him had it not been for the lights on his chest. But she remained perfectly still, letting him come to her. She had to stop herself from becoming sick.
The moment she felt the cloth over her eyes, she gasped and had to bite her lip to keep from crying. Vader tied the blindfold on tightly, but not so tightly that it hurt. She supposed she should be grateful for that. As she waited in dread, she heard a strange sound, but she didn't feel him touch her. It almost sounded like a vacuum being opened. When the hissing of the respirator was no longer in the air, she realized what it was. He'd taken off his helmet. Lord Vader could take off his helmet.
Gloved hands grabbed her around the waist, and Padmé couldn't help the small sob that escaped. The hands stalled for a moment before picking her completely up off her feet and setting her down on her knees on the bed. She trembled as she heard more noises coming from him, these sounding like he was undoing a belt. She was made to wait in fear for several minutes before the hands returned, this time lifting up her nightgown. This couldn't be real. What had she done?
He literally ripped her panties off, and she felt his gloved hands on her hips. She closed her eyes, bowing her head as humiliation filled her. She couldn't even blame him this time. This had been her offer. It wasn't rape if she was willing. But then, just how willing was she?
It was strange to hear him breathe and it not coming out as a hiss. His breath wasn't all that loud, sounded like any man that had exerted himself too much. Or was growing more aroused. Another shiver of dread filled her.
Suddenly, she felt it. She was biting her lip so hard she was sure it was bleeding, even as the tears streamed from her eyes, but she didn't dare make another sound. She could feel it pressing against her maidenhood. This was it. He was going to take it all from her. She was about to become something she'd always despised.
A cry of pain erupted from Padmé before she could stop it. She hadn't been prepared for the sudden entry. She gasped and panted, even as more tears streamed from her eyes. She felt him. He had broken her. But he wasn't all the way inside, she realized with horror. He'd paused.
After she caught her breath, she felt him begin to rock, pushing further and further inside each time. It wasn't fast, and it hurt. It was almost as though he were being cautious. This was almost worse, and she wished he would just get it over with. She wanted this to just be done with.
As if sensing her thoughts, Vader pushed himself all the way in. Padmé let out another cry. It was so strange to have something inside of her like this. It hurt. He was too big. She wasn't used to this, and either Vader wasn't either or he was being considerate of her feelings. Neither seemed plausible.
But after another moment's pause, he grew impatient. He began rocking again, and the more he rocked, the more Padmé found herself feeling confused and lost. Her body began rocking in time with his, his hands on her hips making it so. Her ass hit up against his hips in time, and she felt his hot breath on the back of her neck and shoulders.
The longer this went on, the rougher Vader got. One hand remained on her hip, slamming her back into him anxiously, the other sneaked to her neck, ever so gently grabbing it, stroking it, as though he were going to strangle her if she did not please him. His breathing became labored, and Padmé found herself feeling more confused as time went on. Something was happening to her, her stomach was tensing, and she wasn't quite sure what it meant. She couldn't think properly.
Harder and harder Vader drove into her, and the more he did, the more Padmé found herself responding to him. Once a moan escaped her lips, she couldn't stop herself. And when the first moan slipped, the more voracious Vader became. It spurred him on, apparently giving him encouragement. Faster and faster until they were both frantic. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled Padmé with shame, but she found she couldn't stop herself from moving. She didn't want to stop. Something had built up inside her and she needed release. Force she needed it.
"Please!" she cried out at last, unable to contain herself. She wasn't even sure what she meant by it.
At last, everything exploded into white bliss and she cried out. A wave of the purest pleasure washed over her, and a moment after she felt Vader spasm behind her, groaning as he released. They were both left gasping, Padmé felt her legs shaking and was being held up by Vader. But when she felt him pull away, reality came crashing back down all around her, even as he let her fall onto the bed.
What had she done?
There were sounds coming from his general direction, like he was adjusting his belt, but she didn't respond. She lay perfectly still until she heard the door open and close. She waited a moment longer, before pulling off her blindfold. He was gone. He'd gotten what he'd come for. She was alone now.
Padmé fell back into the bed, bawling, overwhelmed with a range of raging emotions. She felt so dirty, so used, so ashamed. What had she done? What in the name of the Force had she done?
She cried until she had nothing left, but she didn't fall asleep that night.
Author's Note: It will be more adult themed from now on, as stated at the beginning and in the summary. You've been warned.
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