Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. Disney does, but so does Lucas Films LTD, I think. Some dialogue and scenes are inspired by the (highly recommended (and no, I'm never gonna shut up about this book)) novelization of Revenge of the Sith by Matthew Stover
then
"Master Skywalker, there are too many of them! What're we going to do?"
Vader looked upon the small boy with cold malice as he ignited his blade. Anakin's eyes were shut to the horrors, and when he finished, he left the room with a swish of his cloak.
For Padmè, he thought. …for the child.
Anakin was dead.
Gone.
He was never coming back.
It's all he thinks as Padmè runs into his arms, tears in her eyes. He's on her veranda, and the temple is ablaze in the distance and it's all thanks to him and his troopers.
Vader finds pride where Anakin feels shame. Neither, however, find it unjust.
Not really.
Not completely.
Anakin needs to justify what he's done, but Vader does not.
He doesn't even think of himself as a whole person anymore, especially when he looks down at his wife.
Anakin had always been jealous, and a bit possessive, and he'd admit somewhat controlling, but it's almost as if Vader sees her as a possession. His love isn't the same as Anakin — he realizes this later, though. When it's far too late to matter and far too late to prevent the inevitable end when she dies.
When it's all for nothing.
He holds her close to his heart, needing her. He doesn't have time for this detour, but he needs to see her and she needs to see him.
"What about Obi-Wan?" she asks, taking a step back.
Something in the air shifts. It had been shifting since they began talking. She's… unsettled. She doesn't trust what he's telling her, and she seems almost weary of him.
His fists clench together and he feels a moment of rage. He doesn't want to talk about Obi-Wan, and doesn't want to hear her concern for his former master and friend.
When he flies away, he doesn't look back. He takes off to Mustafar, almost trembling with anticipation.
He would end this war once and for all.
He'd have his revenge.
Vader allows himself to think of the names Anakin holds close — the ones who died thanks to the cowards hiding on the lava planet. Gripping the controls, he eagerly makes the jump to hyperspace and leaves Anakin behind.
The boy was weak, but not Vader. Vader would never show weakness like mercy again.
now
It's unheard of for Vader to take his personal military ship to Mustafar.
The captain, the admiral, and the general all recheck the orders before sounding it off. Neither wish to meet their end for such an obvious mistake, knowing fully it'd be their last.
Little do they know that mistake or not, it doesn't matter.
.
.
.
Vader collects Sabè and Rabè. He can tell that, for now, Rabè is subdued, if only for Leia and Sabè's sakes. He trusts them with Leia.
There's nowhere to run, anyway.
There is only his castle and lava.
It's a far cry from the Naboo gardens Padmè had dreamt of. It's a far cry from the life he once thought he'd have.
Leia clings to her aunts and they look her over, kiss her face all over, and they promise her she'll be okay.
Sabè picks Leia up, and despite her soreness and strain, she holds her. Leia is too big for the act, and Vader is impressed that Sabè can do it at all, but also resents it.
She has parented his child for seven years, what rights did she have anymore?
He turns away.
His crew is lined before him, unsure of what to do. Vader usually leaves them in space or at the Imperial Base on Coruscant.
He ignites his blade and before either female or his crew can so much as scream, it begins.
A few try and run, almost all cry out, and a few troopers shoot, but all the crew is dead within minutes.
Sidious won't care, per se, but it will be a tough situation to explain. He'll dump the ship later in the lava, but when he returns to them, Leia is sobbing into Sabè's shoulder, her fear permeating the air.
Rabè is pale, and he senses her fear when she looks at Leia and Sabè, truly taking in the situation: They are at his mercy, and whatever hope that she'd clung to of Anakin being alive is gone.
"In front of your own child," Sabè whispers, her eyes closed. She's done her best to protect Leia, but death, gore, and blood are everywhere.
Vader's stare is cold. "Come," he snaps and leads the way in.
They hesitate, but only for a moment, not even enough time for him to turn back.
Rabè is in front, and Sabè holds Leia close. It won't stop him, but he lets them have their illusion of safety.
Leia cries as quietly as she can and Sabè rubs her back. He resents that she looks like Padmè, even still, turning from the scene in a blind rage that holds his true anguish: Had Padmè even held his daughter?
There were distinct differences Anakin had always seen through when he looked at his wife and her double. It wasn't just that their Force signatures had been vastly different, it had been subtle, physical things. Nothing no one would notice if they didn't know Padmè as intimately as he did.
Sabè held herself too stiffly, like a soldier. Padmè gave into her softness, if even just to give her opponent a false sense of security.
Sabè's mask was more firm than Padmè's, due to her extensive years of musical training. Also, Padmè's hands were smaller. It was a detail no one but him had ever noticed.
Despite that, it was hard to not see her.
Vader had imagined millions of fantasies and 'what-ifs' of his life, and seeing the ghost of his wife hold their child… his chest ached at the sight.
Leia looked like Padmè, and her cousin, Padmè's eldest niece, Ryoo, he remembered.
Ryoo and Leia could've been identical with deliberate mistakes. Leia had his mother's cheekbones. The ones he had inherited from Shmi, along with the eye shape.
Anakin had looked nothing like his mother, with her long, dark hair and dark eyes. Anakin had been blonde haired and blue eyed, he burnt easily where his mother hadn't, but they'd shared two things he'd always clung to, especially in the earlier years of his training.
Anakin had no photos of Shmi, nothing but memories that he clung to, despite being told to let go, but he saw his mother in himself.
What would she think of us now? The voice of Anakin questioned deep inside his mind, and Vader crushed the boy under mechanical hands.
then
The moon eclipsed the sun as Darth Vader stood on a bridge. Below him, the lava burned, bubbled, and popped, sending sparks and smoke into the night air.
He thought of the night he confessed his love to Padmè, when she'd rejected him. He'd built a fire, watching the logs crack and spark, breaking apart into ash as she sat beside him. This place was a far cry from the lake house in Varykino.
Darth Vader's soul burned hot, the darkness surrounded him like a poison he greedily drank. He relived the kills, the coldness of it all. It had been… fun.
It should have horrified him. It would've horrified him, and yet…
"The war is over, Lord Sidious promised us peace! We only want —"
But Vader cut him off. "His transmission was garbled; he said you would be left in pieces."
How he'd enjoyed saving Gunray last, feeling his fear, thinking of Padmè. How many times had that Neimoidian scum tried to execute her? How he savored each kill; each a retaliation for those he'd lost, for Echo and Fives…
A tear slid down his cheek, thinking of before. He thought of the small boy, blonde hair and blue eyes, just like him, running up to him for protection.
He thought of Padmè, believing they were going to have a little boy.
"He'll probably look just like you," she whispered when they lay curled in bed. He'd been rubbing her stomach then. She kissed his hair, "I hope he has your eyes."
He swallowed, trying to shove it down.
There was no going back. There was no changing what he'd done, and he couldn't regret it.
The baby and Padmè were all that mattered, and now they'd be safe from war and the scum he'd eliminated from the galaxy.
They had wanted to play general, fighting dirty and manipulating poor systems of starving, desperate people, and he'd brought the war to their doorstep. They wanted the Jedi gone, and he'd eliminated them.
He was their judge, jury, and executioner. They had gotten exactly what they deserved.
Right?
He turned back inside, kicking the head of a fallen separatist out of his way. Once he contacted his new master, he'd contact Padmè, and then, hopefully, he'd go home.
"You called this home…" she said, surprised and looking up at him with shy brown eyes.
He'd laughed then, kissing her lips, "What else would this be?"
now
He orders Vaneè to take Rabè and Sabè to a free room. Any room, he doesn't care as long as it's far from where he stays. When he turns to them, his warning is clear: Any attempts to run, and they won't have the limbs to so much as crawl.
Leia tries to go with them, but he grabs her by the jacket. She screams for them, and when Rabè pauses, Sabè forces her to move.
"Why did you kill those people?" Leia asks, her voice angry despite her fear. He sees Padmè clearly in her, he swallows down his emotions.
"To keep you safe," he says and then forces her to move.
"Where are you taking me?" she asks, trying to use her anger to mask her fear.
"Your room," is all he says.
"You can't keep me here! I won't stay," she says, her voice hard and determined. If it didn't anger him, he'd have been amused. His daughter had gotten her mother's sense of justice, but his stubbornness.
"And where will you go? Who is coming to save you?" he said, a sneer evident in his robotic voice.
Leia froze at that, but then seemed to regain herself as she glared up at him. "My aunts always save me."
then
"Sabè always comes through," Padmè said to him, smiling as he sat beside her.
Anakin laughed, holding Padmè close to him and kissing her head. "I'll admit, she's a good ally to have."
"The best," Padmè says with a yawn, snuggling into his leather-clad chest, kissing just above his heart.
They would owe Sabè for having to play senator for the night, knowing she and Dormè would be beside themselves with boredom, but he was grateful to the handmaiden as he relaxed beside his wife. Behind them, the Jedi temple glowed in the dark of night, but they faced away from work and war, leaving it behind them just this once to enjoy one another.
"I've missed you, Padmè," he says quietly into her hair, breathing in her scent. It was always floral, and it always calmed him — she always soothed his soul.
He never could confess how, sometimes, especially now without Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan feeling distant, that he felt like his soul was breaking. He didn't feel like the person he'd once been, and he hadn't been the slave boy on Tatooine for so long he almost forgot what it was like to be him.
Padmè always assured him he was a good person, that he was loyal and kind, but the longer the war went the less it felt that way. The darkness was creeping in on him, and then, beside his wife, he felt the darkness run from the light his wife had.
"You are the only star that could ever bring me home," he'd said in their vows by the lake. It hadn't been the tradition, it'd just been the raw truth. Padmè would always be the center of his universe. She'd always be the one thing that could keep him sane, keep him whole, keep him in the light.
now
When he shuts Leia's door, he knows she won't be able to escape. Locking it from the outside, he turns, ignoring her screams and little fists pounding on the door.
No one would be coming for her, and no one would ever find her.
Pacing in his chambers, he curses. Things shatter, rattle, and fly, but nothing suppresses his rage.
He doesn't even know what the center of it is anymore; he hasn't really known for years.
Palpatine had lied to him, and for a moment in time, Padmè had been alive to give birth to their daughter. Something shattered as he thought about Padmè being alive, birthing Leia, naming her, all while he what? Was rebuilt? Commanded over soldiers?
He thought of her tomb, then. She'd been pregnant. He had witnessed it with his own eyes!
Vader knew Obi-Wan had been right to deceive him, along with Palpatine. No matter what would've happened, Vader would've been powerless from stopping Palpatine from stealing the girl away, and hide her with Sabè and Rabè no less. It was smart. It would have been something he'd have done as Anakin — something flew and exploded against the wall at the mere thought of Skywalker.
Closing his eyes, he just wanted to sob. It was pathetic, but then, so was he. He was imprisoned in a suit; he couldn't breathe on his own, couldn't see or hear, he had no limbs, and the only things he ever wanted were lost to him. Padmè was dead and gone, and Leia feared him and hated him more than that.
He thought of his vows on the lakeside, his fists clenching. How had things gotten this way? He used to ask himself that all the time, but then it became less and less. Now, however, he found himself reliving the past.
How he'd looked out the window in the temple where he knew Padmè was. How he knew he had to save her, even at the cost of his own soul.
"You — you killed… But you loved her! I don't understand! Why? Why would you —!?"
then
She was rejecting him, he could feel it. She backed away slowly, as if he were a dangerous animal, or worse: An enemy! It made his blood boil.
"Obi-Wan was right… You — you've changed."
Anakin suddenly felt it. It had lingered in the air, but he'd been focused on her and only her, but now…
With his nostrils flaring, and his chest heaving, he was trembling with rage by the time he saw Obi-Wan.
So… she had betrayed him, too.
For years, Vader would reflect on this moment. He had been so eager for Obi-Wan to find him, to dare challenge him, but now he could see his wife for what she truly was: Another enemy.
No! the part of Anakin clinging inside him denied. He had been at the height of his glory, killing the leaders of the separatist army, especially Gunray.
In years to come, Vader would change everything about this moment, but he couldn't really. He wanted her to feel his pain, his power, to show her what happened when he was defied.
"I don't want to hear any more about Obi-Wan. The Jedi turned against me, don't you turn against me," he warned, shaking with a rage so deep it almost scared him.
When he releases her neck, he wants to take it back. He wants to crawl on his hands and knees to her, to cradle her in his arms and make sure she's okay.
"You turned her against me!"
And in that moment, he hates Obi-Wan Kenobi and vows to kill him, no matter what. He can't crawl to his wife or check on her. He cannot show weakness. He can't and he won't.
When he senses Obi-Wan touching her, he vows to take the hand off with his saber, then he'd plunge the plasma in his chest for daring to challenge him!
He was the supposed Chosen One, and beyond that, for all the time he'd spent belittling him and holding him back, he'll make his master pay for all of it.
"I hate you!" he screams as Obi-Wan walks away, not even man enough to kill him on the lava bank. When the fire sets in, he screams in agony and he thinks he has to live for Padmè, for the baby, because they need him.
After he survives, it's just for revenge. He will make Obi-Wan suffer as he had. He will make him pay for the beast he'd unleashed on Padmè and his child.
now
Vader always imagined "what if."
There were so many what ifs to dwell on.
What if he'd told Padmè about the night in the theater? What if he'd been honest with Obi-Wan, especially when he'd basically confessed to his own romantic feelings for the Duchess of Mandalore, or even told him about the nightmares? What if, what if, what if!
It haunted him. He couldn't escape it, just as he couldn't escape the darkness that was his constant companion.
Standing at the window, he looked down at the shore of where his epic defeat had been. He'd been so sure, had felt so powerful — and yet.
Vader drank in his anger.
He remembered how arrogant he'd been. In the seven years since that night, Darth Vader had grown. He'd been reborn, but now…
He thought of Leia and his eyes closed.
When Vader had come to and he learned of Padmè's death he'd mourned her endlessly, but also his child. That little girl he dreamt of, the one so close to being his pride and joy, and now she was here and she hated him. She feared him.
Why Padmè? Why did you betray me? He asked himself, eyes looking out at the lava.
And then, with a swish of his cape, he turned.
He'd let the past burn. Padmè had betrayed him that night, too. There was no denying it.
She'd brought Obi-Wan to kill him, that much he was sure of.
When he enters his chamber, all he can think of is Leia. He thinks of the crew, her face, the fear — he was, and he forever would be, Darth Vader. This could not be changed, but still, inside he felt it, that tug.
Skywalker.
When the helmet comes off, he holds his scarred, mangled face in his hands, trying to push it away. For once, Vader didn't let the pain become anger and rage, he let it be a pain, and let it be pain he wished away.