----------

Chapter 33

Vader's Flag Ship Exactor - Month Twenty Four, Day Five PEF

After the surprising conversation with Padmé over dinner, Vader had retired to his office to complete the detailed report that always accompanied a message to his master. With Asajj doing the work his master had assigned him, Vader was careful to phrase the report in such a manner that he didn't take credit for her accomplishments but also so that it sounded as if he had been the one to complete the assignment.

With a Master as wily as his, Vader was exceedingly careful when planning his own intrigues. A man who had overthrown a thousand years of galactic democracy and tradition in less than a quarter of a century was not someone to be toyed with lightly. Vader, ever mindful of that fact, labored diligently to cast no suspicion on his own activities all the while working towards the fulfillment of his own goals.

It was after midnight by the time he finished and the transmission sent, leaving him free to return to his quarters and the charms of his wife.

Shutting down his computer, Vader pushed away from his desk, his mind continuing to replay the unexpected - yet welcome - scene that had played out earlier between him and Padmé. It had been the unexpected confirmation he'd needed to know she thought about him and not just the twins.

It wasn't that he was jealous of his own children and the time their mother thought about them, but more the fact that she was his wife, she was here - and so was he - and together they'd have had a better chance at finding them. If she'd give him, trust him with whatever information she had, he'd be able to manage the search far more effectively. As it was, he made do with what information he had.

Entering his suite through the adjoining door to his office, Vader stopped upon hearing the soft moan that was becoming all too familiar. Two steps brought him around the corner and his wife into view. Padmé had fallen asleep sitting up, her head lolling to the side, her posture rigid. Her fingers nails dug into her knees in her sleep and, as he watched, she tossed her head in denial - and he realized with a jolt he was watching the beginning stages of her nightmares.

Striding forward, Vader crouched beside her and reached for her. His hand folded into a fist moments before reaching her as he struggled with what to do. Wake her and he'd be asking for trouble - but could he affect her dream momentarily? Give her the ability to sleep for one night without being traumatized by the images that plagued her every moment?

An idea began to take shape from the half formed thoughts the day's events had wrought. Padmé wasn't sleeping well alone and, if she admitted it or not, she'd found momentary solace in his arms when he'd woken her from the nightmare this morning. It stood to reason, then, that she'd sleep better in his arms - where he conveniently wanted her - rather than alone on the couch. Additionally, in this state of mental vulnerability, he had a chance of affecting her dreams. Exhaustion would make her susceptible to suggestion and - very possibly - allow him to draw memories of a better time to the surface.

Having decided on a course of action, Vader extended his hand once more, his finger tips brushing against the smooth skin of her face only to slide around into the soft fall of her hair. She stirred at his touch and, without hesitation, Vader drew on the Force.

"Sleep, Padmé," he murmured softly, stroking his thumb gently over the curve of her cheek. "Sleep... and dream of happy times; of a time before the war when you were a beautiful Senator with a dashing protector who worshiped the ground you walked on."

Even in sleep, her mind resisted the call, but Vader had sharpened his skills since they'd last spoke of mind control and - in her slumberous state - she was no match for him. The Force wrapped itself about her, redirecting the train of subconscious thought from the twins and to a time before them - to a time where she'd been happier, carefree... to a time before betrayal and heartache.

She sighed softly as Vader concentrated, her breathing hitching once before her whole body seemed to relax and true, restful sleep took her for the first time in months. Her breathing shifted, becoming deep and even as she slumped into his touch, her head secure in the curve of his palm. A small, uninhibited smile crossed her lips as her dreams shifted and Vader stared.

His concentration slowly faded as he withdrew the suggestion slowly, watching her breathing for signs that the suggestion wouldn't hold. Much to his surprise, it did. Padmé's mind and body had been craving restful sleep for months and while her will resisted the idea of being controlled, in the end her exhaustion worked against her. The slackening of her features revealed worry and stress groves he'd been unable to properly see before due to the tightly controlled reign she kept on herself.

Sliding his arms about her, Vader lifted Padmé in his arms, his gaze never leaving her face. Her head shifted on his shoulder, the move so familiar - so reminiscent of the wife he missed - he froze. She was a dead weight in his arms that he didn't notice, too riveted by the feel of it to be distracted by such a non-issue.

It was the first time in almost two years he'd had her in his arms without a fight and he relished it, soaking the sensation into his very pores to rekindle old memories. Memories of carrying her through the door from the balcony where their wedding ceremony had taken place - and into the bedroom that held their marriage bed; of sweeping her off her feet in her office when she'd refused to be distracted, simply to gain her full attention - and succeeding; of reaching her bare breaths before danger could strike to pull her close.

His grip tightened and she shifted her head again, her lips curling into a semblance of a smile. Turning with her in his arms, Vader ducked his head to press his lips to her forehead and then moved swiftly to his bedchamber. Padmé didn't so much as stir during the short walk and he was careful not to jostle her, uncertain how long the Force suggestion would last.

Crossing the threshold into his room, Vader used the Force to sweep the covers back further before stepping up and gently placing his wife on the bed. A smug smile she wouldn't see crossed his lips.

This was where she belonged. This was where she should have been sleeping from the first day he'd brought her here, not in his lounge on the couch.

With deft fingers that well remembered the tricks, he undid the jacket she'd chosen to wear and slipped it from her arms, dropping it to the side. Her belt, with utility pockets, and boots quickly followed, landing haphazardly by the side of the bed. He paused as he reached for her shirt and then quickly, before he could change his mind, divested her of it - leaving her in an almost sheer form-fitting tank top.

Better.

Quickly changing into his sleepwear, he slipped into bed beside her. Reaching across her he gripped the covers and pulled them over the two of them. Stretching out, Vader slid one forearm under her head and simply watched as she slept, her head turned slightly towards him to feather across his skin. It was a burning caress he did nothing to escape; on the contrary, he reveled in it.

Whatever her dreams, they appeared to be far more pleasant - for the moment - and she rolled towards him as he eased back against the mattress, her head settling easily into the nook of his shoulder. The tendrils of her hair, now falling out of their hastily arranged coif, tickled his skin and without thinking about it, he loosened it further.

Alloy fingers sinking to the second knuckle, Vader stopped, his eyes on her face as he searched for any sign she would wake. Long heart beats passed and her breathing remained deep and even and Vader relaxed, indulging himself in an urge he'd been fighting since he'd seen her again; he'd always loved to run his fingers - real and fake - through her hair. Careful to use as little force as possible, he untangled the burnished locks with a reverence he would show no living creature - not even her.

The silken strands caught on his fingers, wrapping around knuckles and sliding through joints in such an innocent caress, it made him ache. Patience, he cautioned himself, spreading the newly released length of her hair over her back and his chest. One step at a time. He'd finally gotten her where he wanted her, perhaps not in the fashion he'd intended, but Padmé was in his arms and in his bed curled contentedly around him like a sleeping Nexu.

His hand ran down her back, encountering the ridges of scar tissues the encounter on Geonosis had left on her - scars she'd chosen to keep as a reminder of when she'd finally claimed him... or so she'd once said. Why then, he wondered idly as his hand slipped under the fabric of her shirt to trace those lines, had she chosen to keep them if she truly felt the way she claimed? Her lips tilted into a smile as he withdrew his hand and threaded his fingers - his real fingers - through the strands across his chest.

Come morning, he thought confidently as he absently toyed with the stands, Padmé would realize where she belonged. She'd see that he wasn't to be swayed from this course - that he truly did want her where she now lay - and come to her senses. Additionally, her unconscious reactions to him no doubt heralded a more malleable wife come morning and he intended to exploit that unconscious reaction as best he could.

Unaware of his thoughts, Padmé shifted ever closer, her left hand sliding across the bare flesh of his stomach in an unconscious caress as she adjusted her head on his shoulder.

And Vader smiled.

----------

What woke her Padmé didn't know.

Perhaps it was the softness of the pillow beneath her cheek that was in direct contrast to the sofa she'd become so accustomed to in such a short time. Or maybe it was the unfamiliar weight of the arm around her waist coupled with the heat of a disturbingly familiar male body spooning hers - his lips softly brushing the nape of her neck. Or it may have been an unpleasant twist in her dreams that had made her eyes fly open so suddenly.

Whatever it was, the comfortable and familiar feeling of belonging - the rightness - of that feeling in those first disoriented moments of semi-wakefulness had her eyes closing almost as soon as they'd opened with barely a glance at the chono by the bed. His voice, soft and soothing as he murmured something in his sleep, his arm tightening around her waist, pushed her back towards the pleasant dreams she'd been having.

Unconsciously, she edged backwards into his strength as if she could draw on it to use for herself, protectively cocooned in his warmth. It was far too early, just after half past three, and she was where she was supposed to be... in the arms of the man she'd loved for so many years... safe... sheltered from the...

Vader!

Padmé's eyes flew open just as sleep began to encroach on her consciousness once more, going rigid in his grasp. A quick, cursory glance as she lifted her head showed she was no longer on the sofa where she'd initially fallen asleep; she was in the opulent - decadent even - bedchamber Vader had created.

Warmth spread from his touch where his hand was splayed across her stomach, her shirt having ridden up at some point and the feel of those calloused fingers on her flesh made her shiver with anticipation and memory.

Mortified, Padmé rolled away without thinking and took the covers with her. The force of her momentum not only carried her away as she was almost instantly tangled, but over the edge of the bed as well. Her exclamation as she impacted the floor - a fall that was damaging only to her pride as she struggled to be free - was muffled by her newfound prison.

Of all the idiotic, laser-brained, arrogant, underhanded, high-handed tactics! Fuming silently, Padmé fought the covers, making an even more hopeless mess of them as she tried to free herself. He was going to get a piece of her mind when she got out of there - not just a piece, but a tongue lashing to go with it. She was not something... something...

She groaned in frustration; she was stuck. Her legs were encased in cloth from her pants and the blankets and there was little give in either one. She supposed she could wiggle out of her pants to free herself, but a glance - which was more of a glare - at the bed warned her it wasn't the best of ideas.

Vader hadn't stirred when she'd moved away and she had clearly seen the lines of exhaustion on his face earlier. Her odd hours were forcing him to keep odd hours which was resulting in both of them being exhausted, but that didn't mean the head turned towards her wouldn't open its eyes at any moment - and the last thing she wanted was to be found with her pants around her ankles as she struggled to be free of his sheets.

Caught and torn between struggling to be free and risking waking him - or waiting until he woke on his own and was called away for the day - Padmé saw his lips draw into a frown and heard the rustle of fabric as his hand slid over the empty spot where she'd lain moments before. A smirk crossed her features at his minor distress before he settled back into silent slumber.

Easing back into the prison of fabric, Padmé collected a bunch near her head, folding it over one arm and into a soft ball-like shape. Let him freeze, she thought darkly, determinedly closing her eyes as she lowered her head. That she'd been sleeping the best she had since before her coma hadn't escaped her and she was determined to get back to it. Anakin had always needed little covers and Vader, who claimed to be her husband, would simply have to make do without.

The smug smile that crossed her lips as she was drifting off couldn't last until morning, but the pleasant thought of having thwarted Vader's plans for her - again - followed her down into her dreams. And, for the first time in a long time, she slipped into the dreamless slumber of the exhausted.