Notes: Finally took way to long to edit, because this chapter is a bit to long for my liking. But oh well, I am so done fiddling with this now. Thanks for your sweet words and patience:)
Standing in the lower hangar, Vader silently watched the bustling activity, hands hooked in his belt. A sharp metallic screech suddenly filled the air. Vader jerked his head towards the commotion, gritting his teeth at the shrill sound. It was loud, to loud. Everything was too loud. Mechanic hammering on metals hulls. The endless chatter. The stomping of boots, as a constant stream of Stormtroopers past by.
One of them, halted just in front of him. Vader studied him coolly through narrowed eyes. Wearing his helmet, the Stormtrooper looked as faceless as any clone. But he wasn't one, none of them were, Vader had seen to that. Those who's alliance could be shifted by a simple flip of a switch, would not be permitted anywhere near his wife.
Hypocrite…
The Stormtrooper started speaking, but Vader barely heard him. He shifted uncomfortably, blinking in the all to sharp light, cast down from the lights overhead. Padme. Just thinking about her, brought it all back. The scorching heat, the blinding fury, that had darkened his vison until he couldn't see straight. But above all, it brought back the feeling of her soft throat defenseless beneath his onslaught. He bit the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood. He could still feel it even now. Just a little harder, just a little longer. And she would have been gone. Forever.
Agitated he held up a hand, interrupting the man's never-ending litany of information. He had no need for it. "Just get it done, Commander," he said tersely.
The Stormtrooper stood to attention. "Of course, my lord."
"Good," he replied, before dismissing the trooper with another wave of his hand. Spinning on his heels he strode for the elevator. Once inside, he slashed his hand down through the air, and the door slammed shut behind him, emitting a high pitched metallic screech, that hurt his ears. But then at last, it was quiet. Then at last, he was alone. Sucking in a breath, he rested his forehead against the wall with a heavy clunk, tasting the sickly warm copper in his mouth.
Stay her, and she will die.
Lifting his fist, he smashed it into the wall with a snarl. The metal gave way beneath him. An echoing pain travelled up his arm, past the point where his prosthetic connected with flesh, all the way to the tense muscle in his shoulders. But he didn't give a damn. Pain was nothing to him. In fact, he wanted more. For pain, he understood. It was familiar. This, whatever this even was, he did not. His helmet scraped along the door, as he bent his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
What have I done?
It seemed even alone there was no peace. No silence. Agitated he forced his eyes open. The mask seemed to be shrinking, closing in on him. As claustrophobic as it had felt in those very first torturous months he had worn it. Then with time, he had somehow managed to convince himself that his living prison, was a good thing. But it was heavy, cumbersome, denying him his true potential. Denying him her.
Grinding his teeth together, he lifted his other hand and hit the wall again, harder this time. The impact bruising his knuckles. It hurt, but not nearly enough. And the metal did not bend beneath his real flesh. It wasn't strong enough. Yet, it could feel. He could feel. Right now, he just wished he couldn't. Not this at least. Hand still throbbing, he turned around, to lean heavily against the door.
Run. Just run.
Run? Him? Vader almost laughed at that. No, he didn't run. Not from anyone. And besides, where would he go? No one would take him. No one would shield him. Monsters were left out in the dark where they belonged. He did laugh then, a harsh cruel sound escaping through the distortion of his voice modulator. And it was painful. He was glad it was painful.
Curling his upper lip, he stared at the fist shaped indentation he had caved into the wall. Unlike him, subtlety and deception was Palpatine's true skills. Not brute force. No, he would seek to remove Padme using other means. Still, Vader had stationed twice as many men at every door, at every corner. Just in case. Yet, it brought him no sense of ease. For as Palpatine had so generously chosen to remind him, his long claws stretched far. Even within the ranks of Vader's own men. There was no one here he could trust.
Drawing another ragged breath, he pushed himself upright, and began to pace. But to his chagrin the confined space limited his motions. So, all it achieved was agitating him even further, and he stopped. Loyalty? Trust? Where had that absurd notion come from. He scoffed at himself in disgust, he trusted no one. Not even her. In fact, especially not her. He clicked his tongue against an increasingly bitter taste in his mouth.
The elevator came to a halt, its wide doors sliding open with a screech, making him almost startle. Admonishing his foolishness, he shook it off, and headed for her room. Trust, or no trust, it didn't matter, he had to see her, feel her, touch her.
"Did you find it?"
Padme's soft voice rang out from the doorway closest to him. He halted. That doorway led to an empty room. And although part of him was pleased, that she felt confident enough to move wherever she liked. Within in reason of course. He could not help but wonder what she was doing in there.
Trust is for lesser beings. Palpatine's raspy voice whispered, slithering around in his mind, like an oily serpent. But Vader didn't need the reminder. Distrust, treason, betrayal, were all feelings always lingering at the edge of his awareness. He wouldn't have survived this long if they didn't. No sith would. To them suspicion was survival. Feeling increasingly suspicious, he approached the door quietly. For even though the door had been left wide open, his still got an uneasy feeling she was up to something. Plotting something.
"I think I left it here somewhere. Just let me put the tray down and I will get it for you." Alden replied, sounding rather cheerful. Yet how the Captain could be happy at all, considering his circumstances, was beyond Vader. But he was. Especially so, when his energetic offspring was around.
Vader looked around, half expecting to see the child appear at any moment. But she was nowhere to be seen. Although he had brought her around this morning, in some faint attempt to appease Padme. It had seemed to work at first. But then something close to fear had flashed in her eyes, and she had ripped the child from his arms, before practically shoving him out the door. Vader still remembered the sting of her dismissal, how his vision had begun to darken into pinpricks. Here he had just been trying to please her, and she had sent him away, like some disobedient child unworthy of her presence. Yet he had left then, not wanting to be around her, as the familiar burn of anger rose.
At that thought, Mustafar once again flashed before his eyes. For a moment, he hesitated inspecting, his boots. He didn't… he couldn't… Taking a deep breath, he exhaled, pushing the constant seething anger down as far as it would go. Not this close. Not to her. Not ever again. Only when he felt sufficiently calm, did he approach and look inside. And there she was, standing among a large selection of crates, her long soft curls hanging loose about her shoulders.
Swaying he put a hand on the wall to steady himself, his heart thumping erratically against his ribcage. And for a moment, he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. All he could do was stare. Just stare. He blinked in confusion. Like it just suddenly dawned on him. That she wasn't dead, that she wasn't gone. Not forever. He hadn't killed her. Yet the guilt, so deep, so ragged, remained. Like another ugly scar, the deepest one of them all.
But you could have.
He looked down, as the excuses that always used to come, didn't. And he knew they would never come again. Around him the world seemed to be spinning. Yet somehow, he still heard Padme's gentle sigh, when Alden offered her a plate of fruit. Saw her chew softly on a ripe blue one, as if in slow motion. Watched her tilt her head, to look thoughtfully up at the young Captain. That was all he seemed able to do, just watch. Not move, not think. Not breathe.
"I suppose it must be rather odd for you. To be caught in the middle of all this," she mused, twiddling the fruit, in her small perfect hands. "From working on a star destroyer, to waiting on me all day, I mean."
The Captain shrugged, "I would wait on a hutt, for the chance to be anywhere near my daughter," he replied honestly. Then he winced, adding hurriedly, "Not that you are in any way a hutt, my lady."
Padme gave a slight chuckle. The unexpected sound making Vader's ears prick. "Don't look so horrified Alden, I know you weren't comparing me to an actual hutt."
Alden put the tray down," Well that is good," he replied, with a grimace. "I think any woman would take offence at that particular comparison."
She laughed this time. The soft sound trickled across the floor, until it reached the place where he stood, hidden. Beneath the suit he almost shivered. It felt like an unexpected caress. A gift. This gentle sound, one he had never thought to hear again. Unfortunately, it was over too quickly. Yet a small smile took its place. A real one. In the now. Not one from some forgotten past. And Vader wanted more. More than anything he wanted to rip the mask off, so he could truly look at her. Yet even if he could have, he knew in the very moment she saw him, her smile would fade. It would die.
Alden had gone over and picked up a small crate, and was now handing it to Padme. The movement was enough to break Vader's trance. Suspicious he looked around the room, at the various crates and items littering the floor. What was all this? Yet to his surprise, what Padme unwrapped was just a toy. A small replica of an Imperial tie fighter of all things. He wrinkled his forehead, relaxing somewhat. That was harmless enough he supposed, if not a little odd.
She grimaced. "No, that is not right. He is definitely not having that one," she murmured, before lowering the toy down onto the table.
"I spent so many credits, they gave me that one for free," Alden said, looking around the mess of crates, blond brows raised, "But the other one should be around here somewhere I think. I just hope at least one of them is the one you wanted. Especially considering what they cost."
"Well I for one hope they were ridiculously expensive," Padme replied tautly, a defiant tilt to her head, before turning to look in the direction of the doorway where he stood. Vader quickly took a step back before she spotted him.
"What do you think Thea?" she called, but it was gentle now. The way he remembered it. The way it should be. "Should we bankrupt the Empire one toy at the time?"
"Yes!" A tiny voice exclaimed in response, as a little head popped out, from behind one of the empty crates. Large wide green eyes scanning the room, before settling on the small tie fighter on the table. Clawing herself rather ungracefully from the box, the little twi'lek girl scuttled over to Padme, and grabbed the toy. Lifting it high over her head, she spun around on the floor her lekkus flying, squealing to herself in sheer delight.
Padme laughed again, the sight of the child's innocent joy transforming her into the Padme he knew, the Padme he remembered. "Be careful you. Or you will trip over your own feet," she chided gently.
Ignoring Padme's warning, the girl continued in a spiral across the floor. Her line of trajectory leading her straight to where he stood. When she spotted him, she stopped, cocking her head to look up at him. On impulse, he lifted one finger towards his mask, asking for her silence. Biting her lip, she seemed to give serious thought to his request. Then having apparently decided not to oust him, her delighted expression transformed in to a toothy grin.
"Shush," she told herself, lifting a tiny finger to her own lips.
At least he had seemed to have acquired the loyalty of a toddler, he thought dryly, as he watched her totter away, still clutching at her prize.
Not having noticed their silent exchange, Alden stepped over to Padme offering her another box, slightly bigger than the previous. "Don't worry about her, she does it all the time," he said, casting his daughter a fond glance, "If she falls, she'll just gets back up, that one."
Padme smiled again. The second one aimed at the Captain while he was standing there. That unfroze him better than lava could, red hot jealousy burning in his throat. For even though it was not the kind of bright smile she had used to give him, it was still a smile. And that was something she now denied him. Lifting a hand, he shifted his dark gaze to the all to friendly captain. It would be so easy, so very, very easy. He'd even make it quick and painless for Padme's sake.
It snorted. Kill him now, and she will not smile at you ever again.
Perhaps, but that didn't stop him from entertaining the idea. Still, he lowered his hand back down. He would keep his word. For now.
" Well, in that case, I admire her spirit," Padme replied, interrupting the deadly direction of his thoughts. Carefully she pried the new box open with her hands. "This is the one," she said breathlessly. Her lingering smile, now bittersweet. Then gingerly, almost reverently she pulled an object from the box, turning slightly. Curious Vader stepped closer, but he couldn't make out what it was from where he stood.
"I thought it might be, given the description you gave me. I just hope it's the right colours," Alden said, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Considering what it is, I have to say it was surprisingly hard to find."
"I am not," Padme replied, clutching the item protectively to her chest. "The Emperor would want any trace of that time gone. Erased from history. But no matter how hard he tries, he cannot erase it from the heart of those of us who still remember. Who will always remember."
Vader's curiosity at last overrode his patience. Stepping into the room, he revealed himself. Legs planted wide to block the doorway. At the very instant he drew his first audible breath, any trace of laughter drained from the room. As if it could not exist in his presence. Instantly he saw the change in her, saw her stiffen, saw how her precious smile withered then died, the moment she noticed him. Although he had expected that much, it still stung. The child however, smiled. Giving him a look, that could only be described as adoring. It was absurd. And so unexpected, he felt a genuine pang of surprise. He glared at her beneath the mask, the foolish ignorant thing. Didn't she know, she was looking at a monster?
Padme quickly positioned herself between him and the girl, as if to shield the child with her own body. But Vader had no intention of harming the girl. Facing Alden, he jerked his head back towards the door. Understanding dawning, Alden grabbed the child and quickly fled the room. Vader stepped aside only enough to permit them to leave. Alone at last, he turned back to his wife.
"What are you doing?" he asked sharply, glaring at her. How dare she hide things from him? How dare she smile at someone else? When her smiles belonged to him. Just him!
"Spying is rude," she told him stiffly, blatantly ignoring his question. Lips in a thin firm line, she did not look at all pleased to see him.
Eyes still narrowed, he let his gaze travel down her thin form. When he saw what she was holding, his breath quickened, the past once again to close. It was another toy ship, yet this one was shaped like an arrow, painted in a familiar pattern of grey and yellow. And he would have recognized the sleek design anywhere. It was made to be fast, as well as easily manoeuvrable. And he would know. Because it was a perfect miniature replica of a jedi issue starfighter. His starfighter.
Noticing his regard, Padme defensively clutched the toy closer to her chest. As if she was afraid he would take if from her. But he didn't want to touch it. In fact, he didn't even want to look at it.
"Although I am no expert on starfighters, this one is supposed to be an exact replica of yours," she said at last, filling the silence. Her wariness slowly being replaced by annoyance. Unclenching her arms, she held her hand out, offering it to him. Daring him to take it. "What do you think? Does it look like the real thing?"
She gave him no choice but to look at it. So, he did. Then he tightened his fist. It wasn't like he needed to touch it, to get rid of it.
"I promised I would get one just like it for Luke's birthday," she added, when he didn't reply.
He reluctantly dissipated his hold on the force. Luke's birthday. He hadn't even thought about that.
Liar.
Ignoring the small ship, he took a step closer. "When?"
She dropped her hand with an agitated sigh, "When what?"
"When was he born?" he repeated.
Her annoyance at him faded instantly, and she went pale, "Just after Mustafar. Only two days after the birth of the Empire." Turning her face away, she shuffled her feet, looking everywhere around the room, but at him. When their eyes at last met again, instead of the accusation he had expected, all he saw was grief. Endless grief. He felt a tightness in his throat, as her pain reflected back at him, into him.
"For the first time in his life, I won't be there for his birthday," she said at last, and he couldn't fail to hear the accusation this time. Blinking back tears, she saved him from saying the words he just couldn't speak. "But I thought I get him a present anyway." She gave a small forced laugh, fingers nervously playing with the toy." Foolish, right?"
Vader resisted the temptation to fiddle with his belt. Here he had been expecting treason, and all she had been doing was buying their son a toy. Just a toy.
Padme rubbed her thumb gently across the small cockpit. "I promised him one of these last year you see. One just like his father used to have. But I couldn't find one then. "
He cleared his throat. Still even to his own ears, his voice came out sounding hoarse and pathetic. "You told him about me?"
His reply seemed to snap her out of her melancholy, returning some of her fire. And the look she levelled at him incredulous.
"Of course, I told him about his father! "she exclaimed. Taking a step towards him, she pointed the tip of the ship, repeatedly into his chest. In to his heart. "What did you think I did? Forget all about you? Pretend you didn't even exist? And that I hadn't once loved you more, than I have ever loved anyone else. Except–" Abruptly she stepped away, snapping her jaw shut. Looking as if she was in pain. "Never mind," she added quietly, "What does it matter anymore."
Vader stiffened, he couldn't listen to any of this. Knowing she had been out there all along. While he had been here, all alone. Her words were pretty but meaningless. If she had meant any of them, then why stay away?
You know why!
Looking down, he eyed the toy ship with disdain, "You can buy him a real one, if you wish. A better one." Lacing every word with as much contempt as he felt. Because no son of his, would ever be a Jedi. When he finally found his son, he would not teach him the outdated teachings of the long dead. Of the weak. No, he would teach him not to fear his power. Not to diminish it, not for anyone. Instead he would teach his son to revel in it. And together they would be invincible. Because he would give his son what he never had. Freedom. And the power to keep it. That and–
A father…
He sucked in a breath, the sensation burning his throat.
"I think he is a bit too small for that." Padme replied wearily.
"He'll grow," he offered.
But she wasn't listening to him anymore, her fingers now tiny claws, around the unsuspecting ship. "I still catch myself wondering," she said quietly, "What if he had been borne earlier? Just by a few days. Could…" She looked up, finding his eyes beneath the mask, her raw pain pinning him to the spot. There was long torturous pause, before she cleared her throat and spoke. "Do you think….?" she bent her head, hesitating again, to his surprise sounding almost guilty," That just a matter of hours could have changed our fate?"
Another moment passed as silent as death. His breathing seemed to echo in his own ears, the mask keeping everything in, letting nothing out. Especially that. The what if's. I don't know. I don't know! Something inside him gave way, wanting to escape. But he couldn't let it. And he didn't want to think of such things. Still, he couldn't go to the one place he always went when guilt moved this close to the surface, when the voice grew to loud. Into the dark oblivion of rage. Not when she was this close. It seemed to be getting harder to breathe, let alone speak. So, he didn't. He couldn't.
After searching his face one last time, disappointment crossing her features when he didn't reply. Padme sat the toy ship carefully down on the table, turning from him. One hand resting on the table next to it, she slumped forward. Looking so small, so vulnerable. "Or had I lost you already, and I didn't even know it?" she whispered.
Silently he looked at her exposed back. Unthinking he stretched his hand towards her, meaning to rest it between her shoulders blades. But he stopped himself half way, letting his arm drop limply to his side. Once he would not have hesitated. Once he would have immediately crossed the distance between them and wrapped himself around her, hugging her tightly to his chest. Teasing her, until he coaxed the serious expression away, and that precious smile took its place. And if that hadn't worked, he would have kissed her senseless until it did. He remembered loving to do that. Touching her. Making her smile.
But now? Now he disgusted her, he knew he did. His human hand twitched, and he stared down at the dark glove in confusion. And him? Well he had grown so accustomed to not to being touched. The even finding himself wanting to touch, to be touched, felt strange. Foreign even. So, he just stood there. Just a single footstep away from the person he had wanted, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. And he found he didn't know what to do.
He bent his head, tasting the agony. As always, the dark rose up to meet it, offering blissful oblivion. And this time permitted himself a little, just a little. She was his wife, why should he hesitate to touch her? He needed to touch her. She was his, wasn't she? And he was here, he was right here. Grabbing her by her slim shoulders he spun her back around, lifting her of the ground as he did. "You haven't lost me," he said roughly, lowering her down before him, "Do you hear me. You will never loose me."
She was limp like a rag doll in his hands. "Haven't I?" she asked weakly. She seemed confused, unfocused. And he wasn't sure anymore, if she was addressing him, or herself.
He tightened his grip. Needing her to see, needing her to understand. "No."
She blinked up at him. Cupping her head gently in both hands, he tilted her back slightly, so he could look deep into her eyes. Her living eyes. His thumbs caressing her cheekbones. The burn of guilt easing somewhat with every inhalation, drowning within his power. Exhaling softly, her lips parted. And that's when he felt it, the first stirring of desire. He wanted her. It was unexpected. Unfamiliar, forgotten. All too human. In a flash he removed his glove, and gently pushed a lock of hair out of her face, twining a single soft curl around his finger. Before catching one small earlobe, playing with the soft tender flesh he found there. All the while watching intently as her throat moved, as she swallowed hard. On instinct he moved closer, wanting to press his lips to her throat, so he could feel her heartbeat, feel her every breath. Every single one precious. Every single one, his.
Her brown eyes darkened, and he could see the reflection of his mask hidden in their depths. Never had he hated his infirmities as much as he did now. One hand wasn't enough. Lips wouldn't be enough. He wanted to rip the rest of his armour off so he could press himself to her, skin to skin. As close as he could possible get. Yet, as he moved closer beneath his hands he felt her shifting. Trying to step away. To escape. But he just tightened his grip even further. Mine.
"Please let me go, Anakin. Please just let me go…" she pleaded.
He knew what she really meant, what she really wanted. To leave this place, to leave him. But he would make her see sense soon enough. He cocked his head to the side, drinking in her flawless beauty. "Never," he growled possessively.
With a defeated sigh, she ceased to struggle, and instead banged her head into his chest. Her movement had shifted his grip, so he was now cradling her skull. Greedily he dug his human hand into the offering, massaging her scalp. Then he tangled his hand in her hair, before sliding his fingers downwards, all the way down to the soft skin at the nape of her neck.
Padme groaned. "Oh, you are cruel aren't you…" she whispered to the floor, but to his pleasure she didn't move away. Instead leaned just a tad closer into his chest, "So cruel." Her head twisted beneath him, as she shook her head slightly, "But this will not work. It cannot work. Don't you see that?"
"Says who?" he challenged.
He heard her draw a deep breath, before she finally threw her head back, and this time manged to wrench free from his grip, glaring up at him. "I do. That's who. And that is enough! Or at least it should be!"
Feeling deprived he went to follow, but she held a hand up, and he stopped. However, he only did so because she was rubbing her neck, looking as if she had a headache. Rubbing the place where he had just touched her. As if she was rubbing him off. Like some dirty stain. He stiffened.
"Just tell me, why you're here," she said wearily.
He squared his shoulders, crossing his arms defensively. "Do I need a reason to see my own wife now?"
Padme just shrugged," Look at me if you wish," she replied eyes flashing, holding her arms out to the side offering him a good view of her body. She was too thin for his liking. It wasn't right, not like it should be. "It's not like I can stop you, is it?"
He sneered, resting the temptation to pace, uncomfortable at the ugly implication. He would have her, yes. But he would have her willing. Somehow. "He knows," he snapped.
"I see," she replied. Though she didn't seem surprised by this, or even shocked. Just resigned. "It took him long enough." She sank deep into the large chair by the table. It looked new. He took another look around, at the half open crates, and new furniture spread across the room.
"I see you have been shopping. "
She gave him another tired shrug, "If this is supposed to be my prison, I might as well make it a comfortable one. "She gave him a cold stare, adding tartly, "That is, unless you object?"
He didn't. "You can have anything you want. That's why I have been trying to tell you," he replied, slashing his hand through the air, for emphasis, "Anything at all. If you just– "
Her eyes narrowed, making them thin dark slits, with no trace of the tenderness he once remembered.
"If I just what exactly?" she asked harshly, interrupting him before he had a chance to finish, "Give up on my morality? Everything I believe in? Everything that makes me, well me!" She tightened her hands on the armrest, until her knuckles went white. "You might be willing to do that, but I am not! And tell me the truth Anakin, if you even know it. Is that what you really want?"
Was it? There was challenge in there somewhere. One he couldn't quite identify. "It doesn't have to be like that," he protested, feeling his ire rise "You don't have to be part of all that!"
"Yes, it does!" she bit out, her fingers tapping the armrest repeatedly. "There is no middle ground between what you have allowed yourself to become, and what I am. And you have made me a part of all this!" She pointed an agitated hand across the room. In a gesture that almost mimicked his own. "Whether I want to or not. And if you think even for a moment, that I will sit here waiting for you at the end of the day. After you have been out there, doing force knows what horrific acts, smiling at you for your pleasure. Then you don't really don't know me at all!"
Her outburst finally at an end. She sat at the edge of her seat, her back straight. As regal as any queen on her throne, and the look she gave him was cool, distant. It was not one aimed at a lover, at a husband, or a friend. But an adversary. It was the former queen that was gazing at him now, and he suddenly felt like he was in an audience. With his own wife.
He went over to her chair, and gave her a glare in return, "I know you."
Craning her neck, she gazed up at him in surprise, "Do you?" she gave a slight shake of her head, leaning back in the chair, "I am starting to think that you don't. That you never really did. After all, I can't find another explanation for your complete disregard of all that I am. My wishes, my very free will. That is, unless all I ever was, and still am to you, is a pretty ornament," she snapped back.
What was this nonsense about, they had been happy, hadn't they? He got down on one knee in front of her, so he could look her in the eyes, palming both her cheeks again. He had all but forgotten how to be gentle, but he was trying, couldn't she see that?
"You are everything to me Padme."
Briefly she closed her eyes with a sigh, resting her hand on his, pressing his palm even closer. Skin to skin. When she gazed at him again, her eyes were bottomless in their grief. But her voice was bitter and harsh as she spoke, "Oh sure. Third only to your lust for power, and your greed." Intertwining their fingers, she ripped his hand off. Holding it forcibly away from her face, before finally pushing it away. "There is no place for me here."
He flexed his hand, and rose to his feet, turning from her. Pushing his own bitterness away. The furnace within him grew, wanting to punish. To dominate. Clenching his teeth, he drew a long hard breath. Reminding himself that this was his wife. That he loved her. "He wants us at the celebration."
"Does he now?" she replied, her words laced with contempt.
Having successfully cooled his temper, he turned back to face her. She was resting her head, against the back of the chair, her eyes half closed.
"Another one of his games no doubt."
Her dark eyes flickered open, "So, you have finally realised just how outmatched you are by that man."
She said it with such scorn he was taken aback. He had seen her angry before. But not like this. This was different. This cold detachment was something he had never seen in her before. And he did not like it.
"No one is more powerful in the force then I, not even him," he protested, not at all pleased at her insinuation.
Padme just raised an eyebrow, "Well that might be so. But that's not what I meant and you know it. It was not the force he used to bring down the Republic." She tapped a finger to her temple. "No, it was his mind, and there I fear we are both severely outmatched. "She let out a small sigh and stared of into the room, adding bitterly. "After all he fooled everyone. Me and you most of all."
He took a step closer, clenching his fists, "And for that he will pay. Trust me!" The words escaped before he could stop them. There it was again. That word. Trust.
Padme evidently thought it equally ridiculous. Staring over at the toy ship, she spoke in a cold tone, "Trust you? "she echoed. "Why should I trust you? It's not like you trust me. What you give, is what you get Lord Vader."
He didn't like her calling him Anakin, but he didn't like her calling him Vader either, he realised. It irked somehow. Saying nothing, his own gaze flickered over to the toy, resting abandoned on the table. Once he had flown though the sky, through space, for the simply enjoyment of it. He didn't do that anymore. In fact, he never did anything for the pure joy of it anymore.
"It as I expected then," she said wearily, shifting in her chair. "But this leaves us at an impasse don't you think? You don't trust me, and I don't trust you. So where could we possibly go from here?"
Her sad eyes were alert now, as if she really hoped he had an answer for her. But he didn't. Because she was right, he had given her no reason to trust him. And if anyone had done to him, what he had done to her. They wouldn't still be breathing. Yet given the chance, she had stayed her hand, but why?
Padme quietly rose to her feet, to stand before him, chin raised, "But have no fear, since you are so fond of bargains, I offer you one of my own. I'll play your obedient little wife for the time being, if you do something for me in return."
He had to suppress a snort. Obedient, her? Since when? He put a hand gently on her shoulder, hoping to ease the tension. Or simply because he needed to touch her. Over, and over again. There was joy in that wasn't there? "Well you are certainly little, at least" he said as softly as he could. Teasing. Trying to be some of what she wanted. But he knew it didn't work, even as he spoke the words. He wasn't that man. Not anymore.
Titling her head back, she scowled up at him. "Well you are too tall. I don't like it. Another thing done to make you forget that your human. Leaving you up there alone, while we are all left down here." She gave a meek duck of her head, "Beneath you."
And there she went and ruined it again. Agitated he grabbed her chin in his gloved hand forcing it up, having had enough of this fake demureness, it didn't suit her. "What do you want Padme? Out with it!"
She grabbed his hand, trying to rip it off, it took him a bit to relent this time. But he eventually released her.
"First of all," she said firmly, "I want to talk to my parents. I want to be the one to tell them myself. Before they hear I am alive through the holonet, in some biased Imperial broadcast!"
He nodded, "Very well."
She took a steading breath, faltering a bit. As if she had expected him to argue. "Then…" she added eyeing him speculatively, before lifting her chin again, "Then, I want you to find Thea's mother."
"Thea?" he asked, momentarily confused.
Padme's eyes flashed darkly, making her look utterly furious, fist balled at her side, "Thea! The little girl you abducted! Or is everyone else so little and meaningless to you, that you have forgotten her already?"
"Believe me she is a lot better off, then when I found her," he snapped back feeling defensive. He hadn't hurt the child. Why would he? She was nothing to him.
"She would be a lot better off if you let her go. Let them both go. The truth is out, do you really need a hostage?"
He folded his arms. "You have just assured that I can never permit them to leave alive. After all, you showed him a model of my ship. Alden knows who I was, if he hadn't figured it out already. Besides the child will help assure me your obedience. As you so well put it!"
She smiled at him triumphantly, catching him utterly by surprise. He watched beneath furrowed brows. What was this?
"Exactly, your ship Anakin. And by the way, why do you care if he knows your real name. Why do you care if anyone does?" Her brows rose, "Are you ashamed perhaps?"
He refused to fall into to her lure. Of all the things, she could have asked of him right now. This was her choice? Well so be it. "Consider it done."
Her smug smile faded in an instant. "What?" she blurted out.
He felt a small fall satisfaction at having surprised her. "You heard me Padme."
She shrugged slightly, "I just expected you to me more difficult," she admitted reluctantly.
Vader scoffed, "Didn't I just tell you, you can have everything you want? How many times to I have to repeat myself?"
"Except what I really want you mean. My freedom," she replied bitterly, resting her hand on the back of the chair, glaring at him, "And yours."
"I am your husband, not your jailor!" he spat. And he was free. No longer under the suppressive rule of an archaic outdated order of ignorant fools.
"Well you could have fooled me, because I can certainly not tell the difference from where I am standing. And in that case, would a divorce free me I wonder?" she mused.
That threw him of. "What?" he exclaimed, dropping his arms he moved towards her. That he would never allow. Not ever!
Please don't go. Don't leave me here.
"No!" he sneered, shaking his head hard enough to twist his neck painfully, "No, just no!"
Feeling the furnace within him ignite, he took another step towards her. It was too dark, too close. Without realising it, he had lifted his hand again. Padme stiffened visibly. And all though she hid it well, he saw it. Maybe to someone, that didn't know her as well as he did, it might have gone unnoticed. But he saw it. He saw her flinch. As if she expected him to hit her. He stopped in his track, feeling sick to his stomach, his anger deflating. Padme just shrugged as if this was exactly, what she had expected of him.
"Don't do that. Do you hear me!" he snapped at her, when he had collected himself. Letting his arm fall harmlessly back down. This was just how he moved, he had meant nothing by it. He hadn't!
She eyed him in wary confusion, and he could not help but notice, she was using the chair as a shield between them. Even though she must have known it was pointless. "Do what?" she asked cautiously.
He drew a calming breath, trying to appear as unthreatening as he could, he took another step closer. "You are safe Padme," he said, trying to infuse the words with meaning. So, she would get it. So, she would understand. He held his hand out to her, as an offering of his own, "I will never ever, harm you again." And he wouldn't. Not ever.
I would rather die.
Chewing her bottom lip, Padme looked at his outstretched hand for a very long time. Still she made no move to take it. Instead she slid him another guarded look. And all she offered to his statement, was another sad smile. None of these fake smiles, the one he truly wanted. The one he needed. "I know you mean for that to be comforting. But all it does, is make me sad."
He retracted his hand, his glove flying across the room, and into his palm. He put it on in harsh agitated movements. He was about done with this. "I'll see to your request then, shall I?" he said darkly, before turning to leave.
"Just one more thing before you go," she called after him. "Should I wear gloves as well?" she eyed his hands, adding dryly "Or use long sleeves with my dress for the celebration. Or perhaps you want me to put them on display?"
Vader halted, and spun back or around. Padme had lifted her cuffs up to the light a defiant glint in her eyes. It was better that fear at least. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Thea came running back into the room, skirting fearlessly past him at high speed.
Eagerly she tugged at Padme's leg. "Can I have a dress too," she asked, with the eagerness and impatience of a child. He was about to snap at the girl for daring to interrupt him, but Padme had already crouched down beside the child, and was gazing at her affectionately. Something inside him twisted painfully. Perhaps it had been unwise to allow this. Seeing her with a child, was something he tried not to think about.
"Of course, you can have a dress," Padme said gently, before arching an eyebrow up at him, as if daring him to contradict her.
He didn't. "Buy her whatever you like," he replied absently. It was not like he cared.
Padme nodded. "What do you say we get a nice coloured dress, to bring out your pretty green eyes?" But Thea wasn't looking at Padme any longer. She was looking at him instead, eyes intently moving up and down his large frame.
"Black," she informed Padme with a firm nod, in his direction. Padme glared up at him, as if the child sense of fashion was somehow his fault.
He addressed the child out of spite. "I think it would suit you." The child beamed at him, Padme scowl only deepened.
Running into the room Alden cleared his throat, before scoping his daughter into his arms. "I am so sorry my lord. Um, I'll just..." he said, while trying to make a quick retreat. At same time, holding on to his squirming offspring. Who even tried to touch Vader with tiny fingers, as Alden rushed past.
"Well, what do you know," Padme said, looking slightly bemused." I think she actually likes you."
"She will quickly be cured of that particular delusion," he replied dryly.
Her eyes met his with a puzzled frown. "I find that quite interesting. That you think an innocent child is disillusioned to like you. But you actually expect me to love you."
As soon as the words were out, she winced, running a hand through her hair. "No, Anakin I– "she began, but he had already turned away and was heading for the door. He was right then, he did disgust her.
Her voice rose in pitch, as she called after him again. "Anakin!"
At his back, he felt her look at him, felt something in the force where she should be. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't pure and light, but dark and angry. It was rage and disappointment. Hurt. Rejection. He heard her call for Anakin again, but Vader just kept on walking. Because Anakin was gone. He was the one that had no place here.
More notes: I promise we will get to the party soon. But up next Padme gets a pep talk.
