A/N: I wasn't expecting everyone to love the Vader/Padme dynamic so much from the last chapter! So many people wanted more of that little AU and I got inspired despite trying very hard not to be... So I wrote this on my lunch break today. Enjoy!
Marching through the palace, Padme was flanked by her usual patrol of red-cloaked guards disguised in anonymity beneath their shining helmets and visors as they followed her furious pace with ease. Courtiers bowed and nodded respectfully as she passed, bending low in performative displays of loyalty to their Empress despite the poisonous whispers they shared in private. She was not who many would have chosen to sit upon the throne and yet fate, or the force as her husband would say, had other plans.
Turning the final corner, the Empress burst into the royal office of the Supreme Commander without the courtesy of an announcement of her visit. Her fury and the searing ache blistering across her shoulder and collarbone silenced any politeness her mother and years of politics had so firmly drilled into her mind for now. Dressed still in her ruined battle jumpsuit, Padme was as ragged and filthy as she had been in the wildness of Utapau facing a shower of blaster bolts and endless danger, but she didn't care. There would be time to look decent later when things were settled.
Prince Vader lingered by the tall window overlooking the urban city stretching in an endless horizon of great towers before them, turning as he heard her entrance. Behind her, one of Padme's guards cleared his throat, preparing a lacklustre apology on her behalf for such rudeness, but the Prince's searing gaze silenced him at once. The yellow-eyed Skywalker had never cared for civility or the rules of refinement one day of his life, after all.
"Leave us," he barked and the guards did not linger to be commanded twice. Padme heard the shuffle of their feet against the plush burgundy carpet as they rushed out of the vast office as quickly as decent decorum would allow. Slowly, her hands curled into tight fists by either side of her hips. Several strands of hair that had escaped from the elaborate, twisted updo she had scooped her curls into to avoid distraction, tickled her cheek where they had fallen in the madness of battle. Briefly, she wondered what her mother would think if she could see her now. Her opinions would not be positive in nature or mood.
After a moment, Vader exhaled a long, trembling breath tinged with the mutual rage thickening the air between them. "Was this…" he began, his face morphing into an expression of such fury, Padme almost felt herself shrink beneath it. Despite her own anger, the Empress felt herself begin to shake. "All of this," he threw his hand toward her in a tight, measured gesture as his voice grew low, "you did this to punish me, didn't you?"
Her face twisted into something caught somewhere between furious and surprised. A punishment? If she had not been so exhausted, pained and utterly bewildered, she might have laughed. Of course Vader believed this was all about him. After all this time he still deluded himself that her actions revolved around his choices, his heart and his desires only… Well, not anymore. Not for quite some time.
Baring her teeth, the Empress shook her head. "This was not about you," she hissed, "A show of strength against the Rebels in Utapau was madness, Vader! Neither you or him should have stepped foot on that planet – not when there was any chance of peaceful resolutions."
The shadowed identities of the Rebel leaders were a plague on the Skywalker brothers which hinted at no end to come. People who fought and died in the name of a democracy they so desperately wished to build, Maker, Padme could understand that. Once, she would have been amongst their ranks despite the hold the dark-haired Prince had over her traitorous heart in those hazy days, but now… everything was different.
"Anakin made his own decisions," he rolled his eyes as if he were blameless. "He knew what he was doing when he agreed to accompany me. You on the other hand should have remained in the safety of the palace."
"He acted on your advice, Vader!" Padme's voice rose and she lunged toward the Prince, the so-called Supreme Commander whose tactics had almost robbed the galaxy of their Emperor, and shoved at his broad chest despite the pain which shot across her shoulder and arm. He did not move, remaining rooted to the spot as if her blow was nothing against his strength. "He could have died! I had to go after him," she bit back.
Growling, he grabbed at her jaw so suddenly that she couldn't help but flinch despite the surprising gentleness of his touch. Guiding her to look at him, Vader's storming golden gaze was a turbulent madness of fury and guilt and relief all at once. "You went out there and you got hurt," he said, lifting his free hand to carefully trace the very tips of his long fingers across the torn shreds of her battle suit where a festering burn blistered deeply into Padme's collarbone.
Despite her adamant protests, both Skywalker twins had firmly insisted that she stay far away from the battle and let them handle the coming violence to protect the Empire, but the whispers of Rebel traps and coming betrayals her handmaids collected had spiralled her worry to unbearable heights. The potential of one or both of them getting injured or killed had haunted Padme every moment since their starships had taken off for Utapau and just two days later, the Empress had found herself following after them.
Unbidden tears filled her eyes as she gazed into Vader's own and every ounce of want and hurt and anger he inspired within her came alive all at once along with a swell of guilt at understanding her heart had been torn in two directions despite her best efforts to stop it. This was not the life Padme had ever wanted for herself and yet the late Emperor Sheev declared her to be Prince Anakin's bride that fateful night three years ago, robbing her of every choice a woman was supposed to wield over her own life. "He's my husband," she whispered, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat.
Padme had come to care for Anakin more than she had ever thought possible since the awkward, early days of their marriage. He had entered their union with excitement and a long-held fondness she had never thought to notice before it was too late which had blossomed into a deep understanding of who she truly was as the person bound to him for life. Parts of their marriage were ugly and scarred from resentment and disappointment and yet there were beautiful days of laughter and endless conversations which revealed their innermost selves to one another where no one else could hear. He was kind to her. Understanding and patient, he listened and truly valued all she had to say and offer to the galaxy he reigned over and slowly, Anakin had claimed part of her heart so deeply it could never be undone.
Padme had spent almost all of the quiet, private moments of her girlhood and burgeoning young adulthood buried in deeply touching stories of romance and tragic lovers of every kind and yet none of them had warned of the possibility of her heart belonging to two at once. In every tale she had come across, there were two lovers, two soulmates destined to find one another across the stars, never more… How was she to know love could tear her in two?
She tried to swallow down the tears threatening to spill over onto her cheek, watching as Vader's jaw clenched tight and for a moment, he looked so defeated, she hardly recognised the man before her eyes. Then, his bright yellow gaze hardened as he swallowed, releasing Padme's chin as he stormed past her, making toward the entrance to his own office. Hesitating, he lingered in the doorway as it began to slide itself open and peered over his shoulder. Something dark haunted Vader's face, twisting him into a stranger before her very eyes.
"For now," he hissed and disappeared around the corner.