Chapter 12: Oriri ex Cinere
Sidious sat in his throne room pondering what he had just witnessed in the theatre. Despite seeing what his apprentice was capable of, shackled and restrained to a bed, she still had no fear in approaching him. The way she entered the room without so much as a second thought, standing before an enraged Sith completely grounded. Clearly she was stronger than he first thought.
But what concerned him more was the power she still appeared to have over him, even as he was now. That in his fit of fury, choking the doctor up against the wall, he still went limp in her presence. She still had that blasted hold over him. And that was something that needed to change. She needed to fear him and he needed to make her.
But the question was how? He could of course punish him for his weakness encouraging him to lash out at her, but for how long would he tolerate it? Plus the lightening was only serving to weaken his already broken body more so, of that he was certain. Not that the good doctors had said as much yet, but he expected it. No, he needed to have something over her. Something that made her suddenly feel vulnerable.
A loud beeping came from his console and he accepted the call. "Yes, what is it?"
"My lord, the two doctors are here and wish to speak with you."
"Ah, perfect. Send them in."
The grand doors creaked open and Celeste and Aleria stepped inside, carrying their clipboards. Their white lab-coats shifted stiffly as they walked and both women seemed overly confident in their approach. They stopped before the stairs and bowed staring up at him.
"Ah, Celeste, Aleria I trust he wasn't too rough with you," Sidious purred, gesturing for them to join him. "Come, show me what you have discovered."
The two women ascended the stairs and dropped the clipboards down onto his obsidian desk. "We sustained no more injuries than usual my lord," Celeste replied, shooting a warning glance at her partner. "Although, Aleria is still a little shaken by his outburst."
He pulled the reports across the desk and opened them, briefly lifting his eyes over the folders. "Yes, I did see that. You ought to be more careful, doctor," he quipped, looking back down at the papers.
"As you can see from the results, his count is slightly below normal with a sustained mobility rate of just over fifty percent. However we will need to retest in seven days for an accurate reading, preferably without him being electrocuted beforehand," the brunette stated, kicking out her hip and folding her arms.
Aleria stepped forward, leaning over the desk, her busty chest clearly visible over the top of her coat. "If you intend on him being able to actually do anything with these results, might I suggest that you try and limit his exposure to extreme energy sources. His body is not recovering as fast as one would expect."
He thumbed through the pages, clicking his tongue and tapping his fingers upon the desk. "Do I detect a hint of compassion leaching from you my dear?" he snickered, glancing up at the redhead raising his brow.
Looking to the floor she squirmed in her shoes, drawing tiny circles on the marble with the toe. "He's just so young, my lord. With what we have at our disposal I am confused as to why we can't do more to ease his suffering," she answered sheepishly, regretting the decision to speak up at all.
He closed the folders and dropped his hands into his lap pushing back in his chair and eyeing her suspiciously. "Hmmm," he muttered, slowly raising his hand to stroke his wrinkled chin. Something dark flashed across his eyes and he leant forward staring at the young doctor. "Do not get too attached, Aleria. The nature of your relationship with him is what keeps you alive. Nothing more. In different circumstances he would have no hesitation in killing you, make no mistake."
"Yes my lord," she acquiesced with a curt nod.
Turning around, the Emperor faced the giant window and steepled his fingers together, methodically tapping each one. "Schedule the next session," he snarled, waving his hand above his chair dismissively. "Leave. Do not speak of this meeting. Particularly not to Lord Vader."
The two doctors noticed his shift in tone and took a cautious step back. "Yes my lord," they chorused, quickly turning away and descending the stairs.
LORD VADER'S PRIVATE CHAMBER
Opening the door, Vader stood to the side allowing his wife to go in first. He kept his eyes glued to the floor, not wanting to look at her. So many emotions darted around in his mind. The elation of finding her alive. The confusion of what to do when he found her. The bitter heartache of watching her run away when he cried out to her in pain. The still undying disgust at her decision to betray him. Truthfully, he was lost. Hurting, angry and so very lost.
He followed her inside and closed the door, striding across the foyer to his workbench at the right. He still couldn't bring himself to look at her. Did she have any idea of how much she'd hurt him? Did he not tell her time and time again he was struggling? Or was she so caught up in her desperate fight to save others that she failed to see the one crying for help right in front of her.
He picked up his datapad and stood by the wall, leaning back against it.
"Anakin?" she asked, standing listlessly in the middle of his chamber where he'd left her.
He glanced up from the corner of his mask, not moving his head. "You wanted to talk. So talk. I'm listening," he snapped not moving from his place.
She nervously looked down to the floor and then back up at him, slowly making her way toward him.
"That's close enough. You don't need to touch me to speak," he growled, thumbing his screen and changing the report.
She stopped dead, her eyes staring up at him in shock. Folding her arms, she wrapped them around her body trying to combat the sudden chill in his tone. "What happened to you?" she whispered, a slight waver in her voice.
"I would think that was obvious," he replied darkly, still not moving.
"Please talk to me Ani. Don't shut me out like this," she pressed, taking another step toward him.
He lifted his head and dropped his datapad on the workbench, abruptly whirling to face her. "Don't call me that. I've no interest in hearing you speak to me like I'm some child you just rescued," he snarled, puffing his chest.
"But I don't treat you like that. I never did."
He waved his gloved hand dismissively in the air and stormed off, heading for a doorway to the left of the foyer. "I've also no interest in arguing with you. So forget it," he growled, charging for his bedroom.
She ran after him, seeing his cape flap in the distance. "Anakin wait!" she yelled.
Darting around the corner and down the passage she skidded to a halt by his door, seeing him standing rigidly by his bed. She stepped inside cautiously approaching his cloaked back, his hands balled into fists by his thighs.
"Please, speak to me. It's been nine months Anakin. I still love you. Every night I've wondered where you were or if you were alright," she cried, wiping a tear from her eye. "I've missed you."
He snorted. "That's odd. The last thing I remember was you bringing Kenobi with you to kill me." He whirled to face her, taking a menacing step forward and jabbing his gloved finger. "That's a rather unusual way of showing someone you love them Padmè. Even for you."
She folded her arms and scowled in return, trying her best to match his height and demeanour. "Well the last thing I remember is you with your invisible hand around my throat trying to strangle me," she snapped back. "I was pregnant Anakin! I was carrying our babies!"
He paused for a moment. Standing deathly still, his respirator hissing in the silence, he considered her words. Strangled. Pregnant. Babies. Wait ... babies? His head snapped to face her.
"What did you just say?" he hissed, lunging forward and roughly grabbing her arms almost shaking her.
Her angry tear-filled eyes stared up into the bottomless tinted sockets of his mask. "What? You don't remember choking me?" she retorted standing tall, trying to ignore his crushing grip.
He shook his mask and growled, leaning so close to her face they were almost touching. "No, that I remember, quite vividly in-fact," he hissed.
"Then what?"
His voice dropped to a deep threatening rumble, emphasizing his growing fury. "You ... said ... babies. Meaning plural. What happened to them Padmè? Where are my children?"
For force sakes she'd slipped up, and of course he'd caught it. She cast her eyes to his control panel, the blinking green and red lights flashing hypnotically. She couldn't hold it in. She wanted – no needed – to tell him. Tears flooded from her eyes, cascading down her cheeks. "I ... I don't know Ani," she choked needing to let it all out, desperately wanting to throw herself into his arms.
"What do you mean you don't know?" he growled.
Tears streaming down her face she stared up at his mask, wishing that she could see him. Wishing she could see his expression. She knew she was a mess but she couldn't help it. "I ... I woke up briefly on my ship asking after you and the next minute I was on some hospital bed in a strange medical facility surrounded by med-droids."
She blubbered and trembled in his grip and she could swear his hands slightly loosened around her. Stuttering in a shaky choked breath she continued. "O-Obi-wan was there, he held them when they were born."
At that moment she heard a deep throaty growl emanate from him and the air suddenly grew ice cold. Catching her breath she pressed on. "I ... I named them Luke and Leia. Everything after that is a blur. The last thing I remember was pleading to Obi-wan, telling him that there was still good in you. After that I'm sorry I ... I blacked out."
He released her and staggered back completely dumbfounded. Unable to speak he stood motionless, staring at the floor between them. His black helmet and mask gently swaying, reflecting the stark artificial lights in his bed-chamber. His midnight cloak dangling heavily by the heels of his black armoured combat boots.
"They ... they must have thought I was dead or something, because the next thing I remember is being trapped in a duraglass capsule on board some foreign ship, screaming and pounding on the lid for someone to hear me. I was so scared Ani. So scared and confused and alone. I'd lost everything that I cared about and the worst part was ... I didn't know how to find any of you. I had no comm unit, no coordinates, no idea as to where you were - or if you were even alive."
She dropped her head into her hands and fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
He was still in shock, the respirator skipping in and out erratically. Automatically, he sank to one knee ignoring the sudden sharp pang that radiated up his leg, and pulled her trembling body into him. His large black gloved hands wrapped tightly around her small shaking back. He couldn't say anything. He still didn't know how he felt. But right now all that mattered was that he had her. And she was hurting. Possibly as much as what he was.
• • •
The shower was running. The sound of water cascading from the rain head was soothing. Digging through his drawers, Vader pulled out one of his black undershirts and a set of sleep pants, gently laying them out over his bed. It wasn't much, but he wasn't exactly prepared for a woman in his chamber, let alone his long thought dead wife.
His mind was in turmoil. Rehashing every individual word that she'd said. In the end when the tears had finally ceased falling, he'd recommended she have a shower to freshen up; carrying her exhausted body into the fresher before walking away.
He lifted his gloved hands up, turning them over and inspecting them. For the most fleeting of moments, he'd imagined the water running along her body. The tiny rivers flowing smoothly along her supple breasts and cascading down the sensuous curves of her back. His suit suddenly grew tight at the hips. The vision abruptly vanished with the sound of his respirator thrumming. Such desires were useless. Staring at the shiny black leather concealing his hands he woke up to reality.
How could anyone want him as he was now? The parts of him that remained human were horrifically scarred from the burns he'd endured. Even the two doctors were shocked into a paralysed stupor when they'd first set their eyes upon him. And it was all because of him.
Obi-wan Kenobi.
His desire to hunt down his old master was now burning hotter than the lava that birthed him. To learn that not only did he leave him screaming and burning alive after mutilating his body, but he then proceeded to abscond with his offspring, casting away their mother like some piece of trash.
He hated him.
What he would give to be able to crush every insufferable bone in his worthless body. To feel them crackle and snap between his fingers. To watch his face contort and twist in agony as he methodically severed his limbs, one by one. First his right arm, then his left leg, followed by his other arm and lastly his ...
His comm unit beeped, pulling him from his macabre thoughts. His fists were still shaking, hanging dangerously close to the hilt of his lightsaber. Snatching the device from his belt, he glanced at it.
He was being summoned.
The shower stopped. Stuffing the unit back in his belt, he growled and headed for the door.
"Anakin?"
Her voice froze him in place, standing stiffly in the doorway. He stared straight ahead, not wanting to see her in such a beguiling manner. He was dangerous like this, and he knew it.
"You're leaving?" she whispered.
The tone of her voice was disarming. She sounded unsure and frightened. It took all of his strength not to turn around. "Yes," he ground out between his teeth. He heard the gentle pad of her bare feet on the carpet slowly edging closer. Grabbing the doorframe he held himself steady.
"Why?"
He rolled his eyes and fought the desperate scream that threatened to escape his lips. Why did this have to be so hard? Despite her betrayal, he did still love her. There was no doubt about that. But the hurt, the anger and the crippling pain he was feeling was overwhelming. Dipping his head, he stared blindly at the floor. "I'm being summoned. There's clean clothes on the bed. They'll be too big for you, but they're clean nonetheless. I'll send someone to retrieve your things when I return. Don't try to escape, you'll be disappointed."
With that he charged down the passage and left, his heavy stride pounding the floor. His master needed him. And he knew better than to keep him waiting.
TATOOINE: MOS EISLEY CANTINA
The steady thrum of hypnotic music drifted on the stale musty air. Beings from all corners of the galaxy chattered in more languages than he could count, sitting in booths, fussing over stolen artefacts and wagering on the outcomes of the upcoming pod-races. The dark shadowy nature of this place was comforting, and suited his equally solemn mood. Draining his glass, Obi-wan thumped it down on the bar and called the bartender.
A tall thick set man lumbered over, drying a glass with a dirty stained cloth. "Don't you think you've had enough for today?" he grumbled, eyeing the groggy Jedi over.
"I've had enough to last a lifetime," he groaned, shoving the glass forward. "Just get me another."
The bartender refilled the glass with the strange fluorescent green alcohol. It smelled reminiscent of Bantha urine and didn't taste much better. But it's effects were potent, and in his current state it was just what he needed.
"That's the last one Ben," the bartender muttered, dropping the glass down before him. "After that, I'm cutting you off."
Obi-wan picked up his drink and took a gulp, wincing slightly from the acidic burn. He slumped forward and groaned, resting his sand-crusted head upon his arms.
A familiar melody, fast paced and heavy beated rang out over the band and he tilted his head to stare at the screen hanging on the far wall. It was the Holonet News, the Empire's primary station for distributing their propaganda.
"I wonder what bantha-excrement they're pushing out this time," he groaned, rubbing his eyes to dislodge the alcohol-induced fog.
"Citizens of Theed are in shock today as the news of Queen Apailana's death rocked the city. No-one knows the exact details of her demise, but our sources indicate she was secretly funding a rogue group of Jedi planning an attack on the Imperial Center.
Emperor Palpatine has issued a stern warning to all who are considering such acts that this behaviour will not be tolerated. Stating that those found to be engaging in such blatant acts against the Empire will be dealt with swiftly and severely.
On related news he has also appointed a new Supreme Commander, Darth Vader, to oversee all military operations and spearhead this offensive; declaring him as not only the head of the armed forces, but also his right hand man with regards to his reign."
Obi-wan stared at the screen in horror, grabbing his glass and gulping it's horrid contents down in one shaky movement. No ... it can't be. No-one could have survived that. Not even him. He tipped the glass over and unceremoniously dropped his money onto the bar beside it. Securing his dusty brown hood around his face, he glanced nervously around the cantina and hurried for the door.
JUNDLAND WASTES: LARS HOMESTEAD
"Owen, Beru. Where are you?" Obi-wan announced busting through the door and into the crater courtyard. He spun around in place by the central water vaporators shielding the harsh afternoon sun from his eyes.
A short woman, with dark hair twisted into a messy bun ducked out from the kitchen carrying a handful of bottles. "Obi-wan? Is that you?" she called out, stepping into the crater.
His grey eyes locked onto her and he staggered forward, rapidly sobering the longer he thought. "Beru, thank the force. Where is Luke? Is he hidden?" he gasped, a slight hint of panic tinting his thick coruscanti accent.
She raised her brow and put her arm around his sandy-robed shoulders guiding him into the dining quarters. "He is sleeping. You worry too much. Come inside and sit down, you look dreadful."
"Thank you my lady," he groaned, thudding awkwardly onto the chair and dropping his hood. His auburn hair was a mess, his beard unkempt and his skin was tanned and dry.
"You've been drowning your sorrows again, haven't you?" she scolded walking over to the table to fetch some water and cold cloths. "Here, clean yourself up and have some water. Then we can talk."
He picked up one of the damp towels and dragged it soothingly over his tired face, wiping the sand and dirt from his skin. Taking one of the cups, he skulled back the water, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robe.
"Now," Beru stated, gently sitting down beside him. "What's all this fuss about?"
His desolate grey eyes stared up into hers. Dropping both hands onto her knees he tried to formulate what he wanted to say without causing her to panic. "Luke's father is alive."
She stared at him, her head slightly pulling back. "Who? Anakin? I thought you said he was dead and that's why we needed to take care of him. Isn't that why you brought him here in the first place?"
He nodded turning his gaze to the floor. "I presumed he was dead, apparently I was wrong."
"What are you trying to say Obi-wan? That Anakin might come back for his son?"
He shook his head and sighed. "No Anakin is not coming back. Anakin is never coming back."
She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her elbow. "You're talking in riddles again. You know I hate it when you do that."
He rose from his seat and dragged his hand through his hair, starting to stagger and pace around the small room. "I just saw a report on the holonet. A Sith Lord, known as Darth Vader was recently appointed Supreme Commander of the Imperial Armed Forces."
"So?"
Obi-wan shook his head in despair, a small tear slipping down his cheek. "That was the name the Emperor gave Anakin when he renounced the Jedi Order."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
My apologies for the shorter chapter, it needed to finish here. I hope you're all enjoying it so far. Padmè doesn't stay the broken hearted wife for long, but when faced with Anakin and the anguish she's suffered, she needed an outlet.
Please read and review and I said before feel free to message your ideas and thoughts, one can never have too many muses.
MTFBWY