Chapter Thirteen
Padmé had gone over this moment in her mind at least a thousand times. How she would act, what she would say. Master Yoda had trained in her Jedi calming techniques and honed her negotiation skills. But now that she found herself standing in the arms of the Sith, Padmé's mind clouded with fear and the panic of possible failure gripped her, making her words and skills seem highly inadequate.
But no matter her fear or her sudden lack of confidence, Padmé had no choice. So many counted on her. Her children.
Obi-Wan.
The sudden pleasant thoughts of the Jedi Master were immediately shoved from her mind in case Anakin could detect them, and Padmé once more schooled the nervous appearance of her face, satisfied with the reflection she could see in the plasteel lenses of Vader's mask.
"Ani." She said in her sweetest voice, bringing her hands up around his neck -- the only part of his body not padded in the heavy black armor. "I've missed you."
"What are you doing here? Where have you been? I thought...I was told you were dead."
The voice was foreign to her ears, altered by a respirator, but the words were exactly what she had hoped for.
"It's okay, Ani. I'm here now. I was sick for a while, but I'm better now, and I'm with you. We can finally be together." She swallowed the deceit which stuck in her throat. "Let me see you. I want to see you."
Slowly, Padmé brought her hands up to the underside ridge of his helmet, her eyes pleading, her heart pounding. For this to work, she had to touch him.
She kept her gaze and hands steady and with each passing second of hesitation, Padmé gained a bit of confidence. That is, until Vader's gloved hands reached up and removed her grasp.
"I...can't."
"Please Ani, I want to see your face, look into your eyes. Just for a few seconds. After that, it doesn't matter. Your injuries, the med suit. I don't care. I just want to be with you."
Once again she pressed, reaching up once more, this time boldly around to release the lock on the back of his neck, only this time stopped by an abruptly created distance as Vader stepped back.
"What were you doing with Nate Kaldon, Padmé? He's been under suspicion for collaborating with a rebellious faction for some time. Thanks to his confession tonight, the location of the rebels will soon be revealed."
What? No. She didn't believe him. Nate would never betray The Erased. That's why Anakin had killed him. Surely, Nate had kept their secret, although Padme believed the Sith would've murdered the young man no matter what he said.
Panic once more threatened to send a tremor through her body and once more, Padme relied upon her training to maintain her composure.
"We met in the downstairs lobby on my way to you. I haven't seen him or spoken to him in years."
As Vader's hand reached out to run his digits through her dark tresses, Padmé could not stop the shiver that resulted from the unwanted touch. She disguised the tremor with desire and stepped closer to him. "Your touch feels so good, Ani. It's been too long. Please, let me see you."
The seconds that followed stretched out to an eternity as Anakin slowly peeled away the protective casing around his burned skull, and it was everything Padmé could do to stifle the gasp of horror from seeing him this way. This was the true test of her training. All of Yoda's hard work and dedication were coming to fruition in this moment.
The scowl of distaste that she so much wanted to bear was kept at bay as Padmé observed the man she had once loved. Disfiguring burns scarred his face. Patches of matted hair crossed his skull, with numerous bald spots in between. His eyes were fading from red to blue and so it was his eyes that Padmé focused on. It was the only respite she could find in the face of such a repelling sight.
With shaking digits, she lifted her hand to his face, placing them on the charred skin of his jawline. "What did Obi-Wan do to you?"
Much to Padmé's surprise, Anakin's eyes drifted shut and she could've sworn there was a tear forming there. And just for a second, she felt sorry for him.
But then Senator Organa's reports came back to her. How Anakin had single-handedly slaughtered every Jedi youngling in the Temple, some too young to even wield a lightsaber. How he had traveled across the Galaxy seeking out Force-sensitives and ordering not only their deaths, but deaths of their entire families. It was rumored that he was personally responsible for nearly one-million killings.
It was a shame.
A shame that Obi-Wan hadn't killed him on Mustafar when he had the chance.
Well, that chance was now hers.
With a small smile, Padmé expressed her heartfelt apology. "I'm so sorry," just before her thumb activated the small neurotransmitter encased in the side of the golden ring which lay against his cheek. The weapon activated spontaneously, sending the Sith Lord sprawling to the carpeted floor, his body spasming as the transmitted pulses of electrical activity interfered with his central nervous system.
As Anakin lay convulsing upon the floor, Padmé didn't take any chances, backing away to keep her distance as she removed the small vibroshiv from her boot, its jeweled hilt warming in her tight grasp.
After a moment, when she was sure the full force of the neurological weapon had taken effect, she kicked at his black boot, and after receiving no response, approached him carefully, glaring down at the monster who lay helpless at her feet.
"You murdering son-of-a-bitch. I've waited six years to do this -- to put the Galaxy out of its misery and make sure not one more Force-sensitive child is tortured and killed."
As she spoke, her venom flowing freely and she bent over and placed the shining blade to Vader's exposed neck. Unlike Obi-Wan, who had received just a taste of what this technologically advanced weapon could do, she had applied its full power upon the Sith Lord. However, also unlike Obi-Wan, Anakin's eyes remain open. He wasn't unconscious.
Good. She really wanted him to see this coming.
The steady pulse of blood along the thick vein lying just underneath his scarred jaw lifted her blade and she was transfixed upon its movement, until a voice shouting out from the doorway drew her attention away.
"Padme! Don't do this."
She didn't have to turn around to know who stood there. But this time, it wasn't Obi-Wan who held Anakin's life in her hands, it was her.
"He's unarmed and defenseless. What you're about to do is murder."
"What I'm about to do is a service to democracy!" Padmé argued back, the blade in her hand still rising and falling with the increasing pulse of the jugular vein.
"Padmé. This isn't the way. Jedi don't take life in cold blood."
"I'm not a Jedi in case you haven't noticed."
"Look at me."
Enraptured by the power she held in her hands, Padmé hadn't realized Obi-Wan had moved to stand just across from her, on the other side of Anakin's twitching body.
No. She didn't want to look at him. Those eyes of his would hold nothing but accusation and disappointment.
"Padmé, please."
Soft words spoken in such a gentle voice. A voice she remembered speaking to her in much the same way the night prior as they made love for the first time. A mesmerizing sound and one she found she could not deny.
Her eyes drifted up and what she thought she would discover in Obi-Wan's gaze was not present. Instead, she discovered a fragile hope. A hope that she was the same compassionate woman she once was. The one he loved. And that she might possibly love him in return.
And then wonderful, brave Obi-Wan said what she hadn't realized she had been waiting to hear all along.
"I love you. Don't do this. Come with me. Stay with me. Leave all this behind and just come with me."
What sort of spell did he have on her? Just three simple words, but they meant so much more coming from him than from anyone else who had ever said them to her before. And as if the Galaxy was moving in slow motion, his hand stretched out to her and she placed the vibroshiv upon his open palm, receiving a most beautiful smile of relief in return. She had made Obi-Wan happy, and suddenly, that was the most important thing.
"Come."
The blade was put away and once again his hand reached out, only this time Padmé placed her own in it as she was led away. However, she stopped Obi-Wan just inside the doorway, a look of amazement crossing her face. Just moments ago, she had held the power of life in her hand. She could give it, or take it away. The power of this feeling though, was so much greater. It truly was inspiring. Almost as much as his lips, which parted readily as she applied her own against them.
"Just give me a moment. I want to say goodbye."
Brows of worry lowered, but the grasp upon her hand was released as Padmé made her way back to Anakin, kneeling beside him and then leaning in and lowering her voice. What she had to say, she didn't wish for Obi-Wan to hear.
"I wanted to kill you, to hurt you like you've hurt me and others, but I believe this will hurt you more. I'm in love with Obi-Wan. Are you listening, Anakin? I love him so much that I can find no beginning or end to it, no depth, no heighth.
It has no measure, no definition, and is something you cannot possibly understand. You never have and you never will. But understand this. Already, I can feel his seed growing inside me, and I wanted you to know. The Jedi will be replenished, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Satisfied, Padmé rose, took one look at the fluttering of Anakin's lashes as he tried to blink away the horror of her revelation.
Experiencing another brief pang of sympathy, she retrieved his ventilator hood and replaced it back upon his head, listening for a moment to the rasping and rapid intakes of his breath before turning away; leaving her past to cross the room and take the hand of her future.