Finally, the twins were asleep. Padme breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly, carefully closed the door so as not to wake them up, and thus have to start the painfully long process of putting them to bed all over again. She paused for a moment, waiting to see if the soft click of the door had woken them, but she heard nothing. The tension in her muscles relaxed, and she softly tip-toed back out into the kitchen where Obi-Wan and Yoda sat drinking a cup of hot chocolate, her mother, Jobal, already having gone to bed.
"The children were good for you?" Padme asked Yoda, keeping her voice low.
Yoda smiled softly, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mirth. "Have your hands full, you do. That, I now see." He paused, his eyes growing somber as he examined her closely for a moment over the rim of his cup. Padme had a sinking suspicion that she wasn't going to like what he had to say next. "Very strong in the Force, they are. Only stronger, will they grow. Hidden, they must be, or the Dark Side…"
"They are hidden, Master," She knew it was rude to interrupt, especially a Jedi Grandmaster, but she didn't want to hear anymore of what he had to say on that particular subject. "And, they'll stay hidden. With me." Padme spoke with conviction, her voice firm and uncompromising, her eyes filled with steely determination.
Yoda glanced at Obi-Wan, who only raised his eyebrows. "I told you." He said.
"Doubt you, I did not." He looked back at Padme, his eyes slightly narrowed. She braced herself, ready to defend her decision, but he said nothing more on the subject. "How fared your mission, hmm?" She hesitated, glancing down at her clasped hands resting on the tabletop. She had given her briefing to Bail Organa to deliver to the Rebel Alliance before returning home.
Technically, she was supposed to keep these missions top secret. However, this was Yoda. She hadn't exactly informed the Rebellion leadership that Yoda was protecting her children while she was on missions, but she suspected that if they knew, they wouldn't object to her telling him of what had transpired on her missions. He was likely the most trustworthy being in the galaxy…well, in the Alliance's eyes anyway.
So, she told him. She told him just as she had when giving her report to Bail: With cold meticulous efficiency. It had been drilled into her throughout her training until it seemed seeped into her very soul. It was expected of the Rebellion's Assassin to be emotionally unattached to the situation. This was, after all, a war, and death always followed in war's footsteps. To become attached in any way would cause her to falter, and if she faltered, she could be killed, or worse, captured by the Empire, possibly jeopardizing the entire Rebellion.
But, here, sitting in the comfort of the place she had forced herself to call home, she felt that detachment waiver- just a touch- as she told Yoda of the slaves the Empire had been keeping there in the mines of Elom. She finally trailed off with a vague wave of her hand. "We set them all free," she said quietly, "But, there were so very many who were in critical condition. They likely won't survive, Master."
"The Empire is not known for treating their slaves with kindness." Obi-Wan sagely pointed out. "We knew this would likely be the outcome before we ever touched down on that planet."
Padme nodded slightly. "I know, Obi-Wan. It's just…" She hesitated. Did she really want to bring this up? Now? It had troubled her since the moment they had rescued the slaves, and she'd taken a good hard look at them, at the conditions in which they were found. The reality of what the Empire had done to the galaxy, helplessly staring at her right in the face…She turned her head away, staring out the kitchen window into the darkness of the forest surrounding their home, a single tear silently slid down her cheek. When she spoke, her voice was but a whisper, "It's just that I truly know now that he's gone."
Neither Jedi spoke, though they exchanged glances. She didn't dare look at them. She couldn't. They didn't have to ask to know who she was talking about.
Anakin Skywalker. Her husband.
The Jedi well knew he had once been a slave himself, growing up as a child on Tatooine. "He hated slavery. He wanted it abolished, eradicated fromthegalaxy...If the Clone Wars hadn't been going on, he would have been a strong and determined advocate for ending the practice of slavery." She turned back to look at them, meeting their eyes with brown orbs filled with a resigned sadness. "If there was any shred of Anakin left in what is now Darth Vader, he wouldn't have allowed slavery to continue. Anakin Skywalker," her throat tightened, her heart shattering all over again as she spoke the words, "Is truly dead."
Utter silence permeated the room, as her words sank in, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, her heart heavier than ever before. "I didn't realize you still doubted that, Padme," Obi-Wan said carefully. He had been the first to tell her that Anakin Skywalker, her Ani, was dead, that the man known to the galaxy as Darth Vader was truly a different person…no, not a person, but a monster.
"Mostly, I didn't," she admitted quietly. It was a painful admission. It had taken her a long time to agree with Obi-Wan. For the first few months after Mustafar, she had eagerly watched the Holonews, looking for any sign that her husband was still alive in there, and needed saving. Had she seen even a glimmer of him, the foolish Senator Amidala would have gone running headlong in to save him. To bring him home.
But, it had been a fool's hope, a foolish pipe dream. Everything that passed through the Holonet was worse - far worse - than the last, until finally Padme didn't even read the story and see her husband in it at all. Instead, he became just some villain in a mask who was nothing more than the cursed Emperor's enforcer. No, Vader wasn't herbelovedhusband. She knew that now.
"But," she continued, "whatever shred of hope I still had was snuffed completely out on this mission." The words were full of bitterness; she didn't quite sound like herself, and she knew it.
"So sure of Skywalker's fate, are you?" Yoda asked, drawing surprise not only from Padme, but Obi-Wan as well.
"I've told you the exact same thing, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan reminded him. "Anakin Skywalker is never coming back."
"The actions of a creature called Darth Vader, these may be. But gone, Anakin Skywalker is not." Yoda insisted, with a nod of his head. "Only Sith deal in absolutes. Know this, you do, Obi-Wan. Hurt and betrayal cloud your judgment, I fear. As long as Vader lives, hope for Skywalker, there is." Yoda's words fell into a shocked silence.
"Master," Obi-Wan immediately said, "With all due respect, you weren't there that night on Mustafar. You didn't see him attack his own heavily pregnant wife," Padme flinched at the memory, but Obi-Wan continued on, "You didn't hear him proclaim the Jedi to be evil! He fully believed in what he was doing! The man that I faced that night was not my former padawan, my brother!"
"There, I was not. Correct on this, you are." Yoda agreed, "Perhaps more to the reason for his turn, there is."
"It doesn't matter!" Obi-Wan was struggling to keep his voice under control. He didn't want to wake the twins either. He knew Padme would be royally pissed off if he woke the children. "Even if there were other reasons behind it, ones we are unaware of, it still doesn't excuse any of his actions," He practically hissed, "And, Padme is right—Anakin lashed out at anyone who even mentioned the words slave or slavery around him as a padawan. I constantly had to intervene before he could start a fight in the Temple with the other padawans over it! If he was at all in there in that suit he now wears, he wouldn't allow the emperor to continue the practice of slavery!"
"As his wife, I know…knew Anakin better than anyone," Padme quietly pointed out, causing them to look at her again. "Obi-Wan is right. Anakin would have killed those men himself before I ever had the chance to for keeping those people as slaves."
Besides, she thought, if Yoda hadn't even figured out our relationship as husband and wife before Mustafar, how could he claim to know that there might still be a shred of my husband left in that monster? If Yoda thought that, then he never truly knew Anakin Skywalker at all.
Yoda regarded her for a moment, his eyes unreadable. "Alright." He finished his hot chocolate. "Going to bed, I am. Tomorrow, your training we begin." Padme had to keep from wincing.
Oh, yeah. That.
Now that she was home for a few weeks, it was the perfect opportunity Yoda had to train her further in her lightsaber skills. Training with the Jedi Grandmaster…Surely, that wasn't the most intimidating thing ever.
Not.
"Yes, Master Yoda." She replied coolly instead, bowing her head in respect to the ancient Jedi. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight." He replied back, inclining his head toward her before leaving to go to his room. Padme watched him depart, and the moment he was gone out of sight, Obi-Wan spoke up.
"He's wrong you know."
She turned back to Obi-Wan to see a grim and bitter expression in his blue eyes. "I don't say that often about his judgement, but in this case, he's wrong. Dead wrong."
Saying nothing, she turned back to look out the kitchen window. Her mind replayed Obi-Wan's words, her heart stirring just a bit…but, she quickly shut it down. No. Anakin was dead. She had to accept that to continue forward with her mission. "Yes, I know." She replied softly. "I know."
Darth Vader waited until the hologram machine was fully disconnected to the Emperor's frequency before he rose from his painful kneeling position. The emperor's orders ran through his mind, over and over again: "Direct all of your resources into finding that assassin, Lord Vader—find the assassin, and you'll find the Jedi that has been helping them." Vader had told his Master of the faint trace of a Force signature he detected on the cliff overlooking the mining compound, but whether or not that actually meant it was a Jedi was still to be seen.
Sidious had no distinction, however. As far as he was concerned, the only Force-wielders left in the galaxy should be the two of them, or at least those firmly in service to the Dark Side. Vader scowled as he pulled out his personal comm. He was being reduced to an ordinary bounty hunter, or at least that's what it felt like. He knew for a fact that Darth Sidious had plenty of other viable methods to track down and find the assassin and their Force-sensitive accomplice. It just seemed overkill to be sending Vader, a Sith Lord, after what would ultimately be an insignificant, albeit curious, threat.
But, though Sidious had given the order calmly, Vader had seen a glint of feral rage in his master's eyes from beneath the hood. The threat behind the order was clear: Do not fail me. If he failed, it would be he that paid the price.
It was a price he had no wish to pay.
The comm connected, and General Piett appeared in the glowing image display. "Lord Vader," he greeted, his voice, as always, strictly professional. "What are your orders, My Lord?"
Always to the point. Another reason why Vader trusted the man with his precious flagship. "We are changing course, General." Vader announced.
He saw a flicker of surprise in the General's eyes, but that was the only sign of it. "Where are we headed, My Lord?"
Vader closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He didn't want to do this, but it was what was needed to be done. "Tatooine," he said, the word tasting sour in his mouth. "We're going to Tatooine."
Piett bowed slightly. "Yes, My Lord."
"And, one more thing." Vader said before Piett disconnected. "Have Jabba the Hutt contacted. Tell him to send the bounty hunter Boba Fett to await my shuttle's arrival in Mos Eisley." He remembered the boy from his Clone War days. He had caused quite a bit of trouble for them then, and Vader now made it a habit to keep tabs on the bounty hunter should he decide to start taking jobs from the Rebellion.
Now, Piett hesitated. "And…if he refuses, My Lord?"
Oh yes, Vader knew Jabba would refuse initially. He didn't like to be ordered around. Still, he had pledged at least the appearance of loyalty to the Empire. "Then he will have me to deal with. Personally." His voice lowered, the threat clear in his voice.
Piett nodded once sharply. "It will be done, My Lord." Vader didn't bother to reply, and disconnected.
For a moment, he stood in the center of his room, looking out the view port at the stars beyond. There was once a time when the stars brought him a sense of freedom, of belonging. Now he stared out at them and felt a heavy sort of weariness that tugged at his very soul…or what was left of his soul. He hadn't slept in days, and he had avoided meditation whenever possible since the meditation dream.
But now, it was unavoidable. Now that he had time to himself, the exhaustion hit him like he had been attacked by a star destroyer. As he began to strip himself of the suit, his movements were sluggish, as if he were fighting every movement. He didn't bother to put the suit away as he normally did, and left it discarded unceremoniously on the floor of his chambers where he dropped it.
Still, he stared warily at the ridiculously gigantic bed that was his like it held some sort of trap within its covers. He knew that the moment he closed his eyes, he would be engulfed in agonizing dreams. Dreams of those he killed. Dreams of those he would kill. Dreams of Sidious strengthening his hold on him, of being the man's slave…of his wife's death…
He shook his head. Maybe he could make it another night. He would lie down, but he wouldn't fall asleep. Instead, he would view the footage he had obtained from the mines. He had decoded it, and he would have viewed it already had it not been for Sidious' call to express his...concerns about squelching this latest threat to his empire.
Blast the man and his infernal paranoia!
He slipped on his black sleep shorts, and picking up his datapad, he climbed into bed and reluctantly settled beneath the covers, lying there stiffly. As a Sith Lord, he was usually so busy that trying to relax felt…wrong, somehow. Deciding that he wouldn't get any more comfortable than that, he brought the screen up so that he could see it and pulled up the video feed.
At first, there was plenty of scrolling through useless feed. Most of it was full of the slaves, and Vader quietly seethed in anger. If the assassin hadn't killed those slavers, Vader most certainly would have, regardless of what his Master wanted. It was for that exact reason that Sidious intentionally never spoke of the slave trade around Vader, and kept as many of the slave outposts as secret as he could.
Sidious was well aware of Vader's feelings regarding the slave trade, but he himself had no compunction whatsoever about using the backs of slaves to build and maintain his empire. As long as it suited his purposes, he would sanction it. Sometimes, after Sidious had 'punished' him for whatever it was Sidious thought he'd done wrong, Vader considered hunting the outposts down to destroy them, just to spite his Master. The memory of the Force-lightning thrown his way was enough to stop him from doing so.
There.
He stopped speeding through the footage, watching as the officers closed the metal doors, locking them, as if that would save them. Not long after, the unmistakable blue blade of a lightsaber plunged through the metal, cutting through it like paper. The four officers raised their weapons, and it looked like they were saying something to each other, but there was no audio.
The blade cut out the locking mechanism quickly, and the doors were kicked in. Blaster fire erupted, blocking his view of the intruder for just a moment, but he watched as the blue blade efficiently returned the fire back to their owners, killing two of the men.
And then he saw the assassin.
The assassin was clad in a black, armored and yet form-hugging uniform, with knee high boots and a hood over their head. A mask covered everything from below the eyes, making facial recognition impossible. But, as he watched the assassin approach the two frantic officers, he noticed a few things about them: First, they weren't very tall. His guess about the height of the assassin had been correct.
Second, and perhaps most importantly, the assassin was a woman.
Intriguing.
She was slender, and her movements were powerful, lithe and yet, graceful. She moved with speed and agility that Vader found somewhat surprising. As one of the officers tried to call for backup, she ruthlessly sliced clean through him. The last officer, the Colonel who had been in charge of the mine, pointed his blaster at her, but he must have realized it was futile for he didn't fire.
As Vader watched, fascinated despite himself, there seemed to be a brief verbal exchange between the Colonel and the assassin, and Vader found himself wishing that there was audio so that he could hear her voice.
A split second later, she launched forward, running the lightsaber through the man's gut before ripping up to his chest. She yanked it back out with tremendous force, watching as the man slumped to the floor in front of her. She paused, looking at the body as if she were re-thinking the decision, before she stepped over it and…
The feed cut off. That was it.
He rewound it and watched it happen again, watching her movements, trying to understand the enemy that he was to hunt. She was certainly a well trained assassin, but…no. He didn't think she had the Force. Maybe it was the way she moved. Maybe it was the way she handled the lightsaber. Whatever it was, something told him that she wasn't a Force-wielder.
And…there was something else.
Something…missing. Something important, something the video feed would be incapable of telling him. As he watched her again, he couldn't help but feel…feel…
The datapad slid from his hand onto the bed next to him as he drifted into sleep, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.
The dream started almost immediately.
He recognized the beautiful serenity that was Varykino. He stood there on the balcony, looking up at the stars that twinkled peacefully above him, his hands clasped behind his back. He frowned, pulling his gaze away from the stars to look out at the darkened lake in puzzlement. His dreams were always full of misery, of anger, of hate…and Varykino was none of those things.
The glass doors separating the balcony from the inside of the manor opened behind him. "The kids are in bed." The voice….that hauntingly familiar, beautiful voice…
His entire body stiffened. He didn't dare turn around. If he did, he was sure he'd see her as a decomposing corpse, or she'd be glaring at him with hatred…
Her hands were suddenly on his back, running up it soothingly, making him involuntarily groan. "Now, it's just us, Ani," Her voice was alluring, melodic, and he found himself leaning into her touch even though he knew that the moment he turned around, this glorious dream would become a nightmare.
He felt her gentle hands pull his shirt from being neatly tucked into his waistband, starting to lift it. He closed his eyes, his heart wrenching in in his chest, as he slowly turned around to face the nightmare…
But, to this utter shock, when he opened his eyes, it was just her. Just his Angel. She wore that white nightgown she had worn during their first stay there, with the royal blue, silky robe over it, her chestnut curls falling freely down her shoulders and framing her perfect, angelic face as she looked up into his eyes…and stopped.
"What's wrong?" She asked, her voice a mere whisper.
He didn't answer for a moment, just stared at her in apprehension and wonder. When was the last time he'd seen her this way, in reality or in his dreams? Well before Mustafar, that much he knew. "This is a dream." He finally croaked, his voice catching in his throat.
Padme smiled. "Oh, Ani," she said, leaning into him. Force, her body against his… "You're such a romantic."
He was breathing hard now. No. This wasn't real. If he let himself get drawn in, waking up would be the nightmare, not the dream. As she leaned up to kiss him, he roughly pulled away. "No," he said, his voice shaking. "I…I can't."
Padme stood where he'd left her, staring at him blankly for a moment, as if she hadn't quite registered that for the first time ever, he had pulled away from her. "Anakin?" She asked, a frown marring her lovely features. Force, he wished he could give into her, take away the frown…
But, he couldn't. This wasn't real. And he…he didn't deserve her, not even in his dreams. "What's wrong?" She asked again, taking a step towards him.
"Don't!" He begged, backing up into the railing. "This isn't real."
That seemed to upset her. "Anakin Skywalker," She snapped, though she was keeping her voice down for some reason, "Do you know how hard I worked to get those hooligans into bed?"
Hooligans? What hooligans? His mind was whirling. He couldn't think straight, and she looked so enticing, and she was coming closer to him again. "Padme…" he began, but she cut him off.
"It's not often that we get a break from them. You always complain that we don't get enough time to ourselves. Well here we are, on a gorgeous, romantic night, and you're telling me this isn't real?" She was chest to chest with him now, the contact spreading electrical shocks rampaging like wildfire through his body. He felt sweat dripping down his neck.
She must have seen the confusion and worry in his eyes, because her own expression softened. "Oh, Ani," she sighed, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling into his chest. He stiffened, but this time he didn't pull away. He didn't think he could. "I'm sorry. I just sometimes miss when it was just the two of us."
He didn't know what to say. None of this made any sense. This wasn't the right dream he was supposed to be having. "It is…was the two of us." He finally croaked.
She pulled away slightly then, looking up into his eyes. "It is the two of us right now," she agreed, leaning up. He couldn't move. There wasn't anywhere to move. She had him backed against the stone railing. "In the end, it will always be just the two of us, Ani…"
And, as she pressed her warm, soft lips to his…He woke up.
Bolting upright in bed, breathing hard, Vader stared around, wide-eyed at his empty, darkened bedchamber, shocked and confused by his dream, a feeling that he needed answers overtaking him.
But, the answers to what questions, specifically, the Dark Lord just didn't know.
Sorry for the late update! I went on vacation, then I updated my other story and left them with a cliffhanger, and it would have just been mean to leave them hanging, so I updated that one again. But I'm back! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! This one has plenty of foreshadowing going on so yay!
I also posted my twitter and blog on my profile page. Sometimes I'll do giveaways. Most of the time I'll just nerd out about Star Wars because why not? We're all in love with it anyway. I also posted my playlist for my other story, but I still need to post this one, but I'll do that probably tonight or tomorrow, not sure.
The song for this chapter is Anakin's Dream by John Williams.
Review!
Love, Sarah
