She stared for far longer than she cared to admit. He was not what she had expected, not in a lifetime of speculation. The grotesque and deformed faces she had conjured up when she dared to think of him were suddenly far, far from the truth.
His lips had the faintest blue twinge to them and she knew she needed to do something. There was a reason he wore that awful suit.
She made to get up but found herself hesitating. She could try to save him and she may succeed.
Or she could do nothing that little destructive voice whispered. The same one that quietly reminded her that Jareth and the entire team of generals was likely dead now. A terrible truth that those in the Rebellion would quietly celebrate, having never spoken to these people, eaten with them, learned about their families.
Stop.
She buried these deaths just as she had for every Naboo citizen that had died under her reign. A special, undisturbed place deep inside of her where brave handmaids that looked like her would always look the same even as her own face changed with time.
Darth Vader, the Emperor's enforcer and heir apparent to the Imperial throne lay unconscious at her feet. The lightsaber was clipped to his belt but offered no resistance when she pulled it from its place. It was heavier than she expected but the weight seemed fitting for all the deeds it was capable. It would take only a clean cut and she could end it all, save so many lives and forgo years more of war.
Killing had never been her preference, but when the time had come she had been more than willing to pull the trigger on those who dared to hurt her people.
Killing the unconscious, while dishonorable, did have its merits given the circumstances.
Those blue lips were ungodly human the more she looked at them.
The Emperor had files on her that even Vader didn't have access to.
She knew she could never kill him like this. For all his evil deeds he had begun to feel something like an ally. The Rebels would hate her, her planet disown her, and she herself could never look at herself the same. All of this was the price she paid when she held the lightsaber by her side, forgotten and not to be used on its own master.
Padmé was frozen. Uncertain which way she was meant to go, if she should just sit down and let the world spin as it may. The sun would be up soon she assumed, the sky lighter than it had been earlier, the air a little more chilly than she cared for.
She wondered how much longer he had. If she did anything, would it even make a difference?
She stood up on her shaky ankle and wondered if she even could do anything to help, or if it would all be for nothing. Her ears still had a faint ringing from the bombings but when she strained she was certain that she couldn't hear any more fighting.
"I'll be back," she whispered softly to the unconscious Sith Lord. She moved closer to him, enough that she could hear his strained, natural breaths "I'll be back," she said, this time with a little more confidence. Her body was sore and she wasn't quite sure where he had dragged her to, but she made the slow climb out of the crumbled remains of their hideout. She was careful to keep the pressure off of her injured ankle and to take carefully calculated steps along the rubble, but slowly she gained her bearings and was able to navigate into semi-familiar territory.
Many buildings still stood albeit with large, gaping holes through them. Through all of the fires that continued to burn, she could barely make out the rubble around her as she slowly circled around what was left of main headquarters and headed to Vader's ship. It wasn't far but the combination of her injuries, the overwhelming smoke in the air, and the acute panic she felt for leaving Vader behind made the trek so much harder. The thought of a rogue slave or a trigger happy Stormtropper coming upon either her or Vader meant likely trouble. She pushed past the pain and kept walking with all the strength she could muster, hoping she really could make it back.
She looked behind her only once to see the little corner Vader had brought them to, what was perhaps a half basement with its walls still standing but large enough debris to form a natural ladder. She couldn't see him from this far off, and she hoped that nobody else could. She wouldn't think of why she was doing this, only that it was something she was straining to push through the pain for. She'd only been to Vader's ship the one time, but the walk had been filled with thoughts of the Emperor and their conversation. She had barely looked at her surroundings as they had not seemed important at the time. Only now she was hyper aware of her surroundings. Each crackle from the fires or distant distant sound of fighting or blaster bolt had her ready to make a run for it.
It was an afterthought that she realized she was still holding Vader's lightsaber. It startled her enough that she nearly dropped it before realizing it was her only weapon. Curious, she paused behind a mountain of rubble and made sure there was nobody who might see. Holding the Sith weapon as far out as she could, she ignited the trigger and watched the red blade come to life in her hands. It was long and ferocious, a deadly piece of weaponry that had struck down so much in its wake. She moved it about a few times, watching it dance through the air. Turning to the rubble behind her, she pressed the blade against the fallen building just to see how much resistance there would be.
None, she realized as the blade slid right through. She deactivated the weapon and held it closer. Just in case she ran into trouble she kept her fingers close to the ignition.
She pushed forward, her ankle stiff and protesting the journey. She ignored it all and kept moving, past the once familiar places until she spotted not far from the polluted forest, Vader's prized ship.
It was darker here, the fires light not quite making it to the edge of the compound. She briefly considered reigniting the lightsaber to see through the darkness before dismissing the idea. Who knew who could glance over and see Vader's weapon moving in the dark. Instead, she made a slow trek that included unsteady steps over a foreign terrain all in the dark.
The hatch to the ship was closed but thankfully not locked. She knocked just in case anybody was inside before manually opening the walkway. Inside the lights lit up with her arrival and she quickly shut the door, still so afraid of being spotted from what was left of the battle. She took only a moment to adjust to the lit surroundings before all but running down the halls, bad ankle and all. His quarters were far but she made her way to them eventually only to find them much more secure than the entrance hatch. There was a code to unlock the door, something she wasn't sure she could override. She tried a few times to gain access before slapping her hand over the pin. Rarely did she lose her patience, but here and now she was tired, cold, and injured. There was a growing desperation to save a man she should hate and all of this on hold because of one damn door…
She stood up straight, a feeling of delight in a bleak situation when she remembered the weapon in hand. She ignited the blade and carefully pushed it to the door.
She'd only cut about a foot when she heard a frightened voice on the other side.
"Oh dear, oh dear! Please stop now!"
She did stop, alarmed that there was anybody in there. She had been positive that these were Vader's quarters. "Hello?"
There was a long pause before whoever was on the other side responded. "Hello. I am C-3PO, human cyborg relations. Can I ask why it is you have cut through the door?"
A droid, then. Padmé waited a minute until the steel of the door stopped glowing red where she had pushed through, then she moved to peek inside. The view was obscured but she could make out a golden protocol droid.
"Do you belong to Lord Vader?"
The droid spotted her looking at him and backed up a bit, as though frightened by her presence. "Are these Lord Vader's quarters?" she asked with a little more force when the droid wouldn't respond.
"Please."
He finally responded albeit slowly. "Yes, these are Lord Vader's quarters."
"Open the door, it's an emergency."
"It is simply against my protocol that I open the secured doors to a stranger. Emergency or not I will need the master's permission before I do such a thing."
"If you don't open it, I'll cut through with his lightsaber but I need your help. He's been injured and needs another mask. He must have another here, right?"
"He's been hurt? Oh maker!"
A long minute went by before the doors opened. She remembered the room from the last time she'd been here to tell him about Palpatine contacting her. It had only been a week ago but the circumstances were so much different now as she looked around, desperate for everything she needed to just appear.
"Where is the master?" C-3PO asked, he stayed against the wall by the door and watched her stand still in the center of the room.
"Not far. But his mask was damaged in the bombings. I-I don't think he has any other injuries but he was having a hard time breathing."
"My master's lungs cannot handle unfiltered air yet. He needs that mask or he will perish for sure!"
"Does he have a spare around here?" Padmé asked, giving up on looking for an extra just lying around. Luckily, C-3PO did not fight her as he went to a wall panel and revealed another storage unit. Inside there were several spare helmets and other parts that might make up Vader's armor.
"Will you bring him back here?"
"Yes." She answered with certainty.
She had to clip the lightsaber to her own belt when Threepio gave her Vader's mask and helmet. They were heavy in her hands and she couldn't help but stare into the lenses as though he were here now.
"The mask will filter air on its own for now, but who knows what damage his lungs have already taken! He was just starting to get better, too."
"What happened?" she couldn't help but ask. "Why does he need that suit?"
"The Jedi." It was the only answer she would probably ever get.
"Do you have a speeder?"
Naboo's winters were by no means harsh. There would be a light snowfall and the days would be shorter for a time before the planet would return to its usual lushness. Planets that experienced harsher winters turned their noses up to any Nabooian who complained of the cold but those from her home planet knew that the green that came after the cold were always the most vibrant and beautiful. When the last snow melted the time would be celebrated with a lively festival that started early in the morning and ended long after the sun had set.
In those early predawn hours before there was even light, people would gather around their city to tend the communal gardens. They came with what they had be it the tools or the seeds but the early hours were a peaceful time to sow the earth and be with their people.
It was that feeling of peace Padmé felt when she finally made it back to Vader. Despayre failed to live up to its namesake when its sun was rising and the land a pale blue color. She felt a pleasant peace as though she knew everything was going to be okay.
Her heart seized when she saw his crumpled form on the ground. She parked the speeder as best she could before rushing over to him with the spare helmet and mask. "Vader?"
He hadn't moved at all since she left.
She squatted beside him and gently took his shoulder in her hand to give a little shake. He still didn't stir.
She placed her fingers against his neck, having to move some of the dirty blond hair out of the way first. There was a pulse, a light tap against her fingers that she reveled in.
The mask went on first, and then the helmet. The pieces came alive, first with the sound of hissing and then with the artificial but steady, light breaths.
She sat down and rested her ankle, fingers dancing down the lightsaber that still rested on her hip. Time clicked on but she waited patiently until finally, finally she heard a deeper breath. She thought he might have coughed a bit too before he got control of his breathing, but it was hard to tell now that he was back to the mask.
The lenses found her, perhaps more unnerving now that she knew there were yellow eyes behind the frames.
"I have a speeder parked nearby." It was all she offered to him. She moved slowly over the fallen rubble but she could hear him behind her.
Padmé did not help him inside his ship, nor did she offer him back his lightsaber. He didn't ask, anyway.
She did pause at the entrance of the ship, casting a long glance back to where her apartment was supposed to be. She wondered if any of it was still there.
"Come." Vader commanded, though he didn't look at her. She stepped aboard his ship, the doors closing and blocking out the sunrise.
She was exhausted and her body desperate for rest. She followed Vader more out of instinct than thought, back through the corridors to his room. The door across from his opened with a flick of his fingers. "Rest."
Her fatigue and the strangeness of the last twenty-four hours halted her irritation at his one worded commands. She was tired, she could only imagine what state he was in. She didn't need the Force to know he would summon medical droids before she closed her eyes.
"Goodnight." She offered out of habit more than anything.
She thought he might have been looking at his compromised door where she'd burned through the metal. Her own door was closing and she thought maybe, maybe he was going to say something. The last thing she heard before the door closed, though, was C-3PO's high pitched voice exclaim, "Lord Vader, you've returned!"
She felt grimy and gross but the sight of the bare room was a welcome one. The bed was made up and directly in front of her. She thought about going to the fresher and washing up but without thought she was beneath the covers and already feeling the lull to sleep. Before she let herself really fall under, she removed the lightsaber from her hip and placed it on the empty shelf by the bed. Far enough that she wouldn't ignite it in her sleep but close enough to grab in an emergency.
Padmé thanked the stars she'd lived another day and promptly fell into a deep sleep.
Mon Mothma read the reports in front of her over and over again. The uprising was unexpected but not unwelcome. A coordinated attack that the slaves of the planet had put together through the months that had been both had vicious and brutal against the Empire.
It was unfortunate that they had not been able to hold on longer, though. If she'd had more time, perhaps Mothma could have assisted them in some way. According to intel, the Empire was gaining ground and would have the uprising squashed by the next day.
Her eyes ran over the same two lines of the report before her, each time she dared to hope more than she knew she should.
Dared to hope Padmé was alive when she read many high-ranking officers killed in the initial blasts. Officers retreated to bomb shelter where explosives had been placed that morning. The thought that Padmé could have been killed was unbearable to Mothma. She was too young, too bright to have died such a terrible death.
Then there was the big piece of the report that she prayed would be true. Darth Vader has not been seen since the beginning of the uprising.
She kept her breath steady and waited for the man across from her to finish reading his copy of the information.
"What do you think, Master Kenobi?"
He scratched his beard and sat back in his seat, the familiar Jedi robes a welcomed sight to Mothma and the other rebels.
"I'm not certain Vader is dead. I would have felt it like a ripple through the galaxy if he died, I believe."
Mothma didn't let the disappointment show but she was sure that he could sense it.
"We have somebody on that planet that you are familiar with, Master Jedi. Padmé Amidala."
"The Queen?"
"The Rebel. Could I… could I ask you to go and retrieve her?" It was a whispered request.
His hand covered hers briefly and he nodded.
"I'll be able to feel whether Vader lived or not when I get there."