She had known he was coming.
She couldn't have said how she knew. She'd never been very sensitive, always so focused on blocking other people out. But she'd always been aware of him, since their marriage and since the children were born it was worse.
She knew they would have told her to run. She couldn't run. Exhaustion had worked its toll on her body. Besides a part of her … one she didn't trust, no not at all … a part of her wanted to let him find her.
Bail had her daughter, Obi-Wan had her son.
She would wait for her husband.
"Lady Skywalker," said the guard. And it startled her. Made her angry too. After all the trouble of hiding their relationship, he told the clones? But evil was as evil did, she supposed. After all, what was a few betrayed secrets after committing a genocide or two.
She sighed and tried to look dignified, but she really just wanted to go back to sleep. "Where is he?"
"You're to come with us, Lady," the creature said. He waved one armored gesture at her. She nodded and followed him to her own office. Or what had been her office. The guards ushered her in, and took their place in front of the door. The lights were off and she struggled to see. He stood silhouetted against the pale light of the city outside.
He stood at the window, looking out at the traffic below. He wore a hood and cloak and kept his back turned. "Leave us," he said. To the guards presumably. The door opened with a whisper, a brief square of dazzling light hit the floor for an instant. She closed her eyes, blinded for a moment.
When she opened them she was alone.
Alone with him.
"Do you always conduct business in the dark now, Ani?" she asked.
"That is not my name now," he said, his voice low. "Don't try my patience, Senator Amidala."
"Or you'll kill me?" she said. "Really, Ani. Don't you think I know you're going to kill me?"
He chucked. A shot of cold fear connected with her backbone. Anakin might have laughed, ought to have turned around, put his arms around her. How well you know me, Anakin would have said. Suddenly it was too much, to have this creature walking and talking and laughing her husband's laugh at her. She felt a surge of hot tears pricking her eyes.
"Your feelings betray you," the Dark Lord said. "Give in to them, Lady. Go ahead. Cry if you will."
"I know you can't read my mind … Ani." And this time she used the diminuative on purpose, a riposte to his parry. "You're trying to make me believe you can so I'll stand here on the carpet and blubber everything, aren't you. It doesn't matter. Everyone who isn't dead left long ago."
"Everyone but you," he answered.
Oh, dear, she really was going to start crying. She bit the inside of her cheek. "I wanted to see you."
The tall figure suddenly cringed, like he was pulling himself into his cloak against a strange wind. "You don't … want to see me … Senator …"
But formal title or no, his voice was rasping, different. He was breathing hard. Suddenly she went to the window and reached for the hood and while he backed away he made no real move to stop her.
The hood fell back, and she could see … well, his hair was gone, burned away. One side of his face and under his chin were twisted and scarred. He wore a breathing mask that blocked his nose and mouth. He made a little sound, like a panicked animal.
His eyes were the same. Large, blue, and incredibly terrified. For a mass murderer.
"Oh, what have they done to you?" she whispered, her hand touching his twisted face.
He pulled the cloak back over himself, stalked away from the window into shadow. "You … should not have done that. Senator Amidala. That little bit of impertinence will cost you dear."
"Oh, stop it Ani! Sit down and talk to me," she said.
And to her astonishment, he did.
"Why did you have to do that?" he said. "I look terrible."
Padme had no idea what to say to that. He killed hundreds of people but he thinks she'll reject him for his looks? She sat down on the edge of her desk, deeply tempted to scold this Dark Lord of the Sith like he was an eight year old boy. "Anakin … it is you, now. Isn't it."
He sighed. "For the moment."
"Lights?"
"They hurt my eyes," he said. "I mean I wasn't just being … I wasn't … I was afraid you'd be …"
"Angry?" she asked. "I am angry, you know."
"Yes, I know," he said, hanging his head miserably. "It's like a shout in my head. All the time. I know what you're feeling, Padme, you can't hide from me. Most of the time, anyway.…" He was quiet for a moment, then added, "He says you hate me now."
"Palpatine?" she asked.
"Vadar," he replied.
"Oh."
Obi-Wan had insisted that Vadar wasn't Anakin, that he was something else, living in the body of the man she used to love. She had assumed that was Obi-Wan's way of making himself feel better. Apparently not.
"He's not you?" she ventured.
"Oh, he's me," Anakin said, "And he's not me at all, really. I'm not separate from him, if you take my meaning. But I'm not completely … "
"Under his control?"
"Not always."
"Like right now?" she asked.
"Like right now," he said.
And then she was in his arms, holding his horrible scarred head in her two hands, kissing his eyes. Oh, not him, they're not the same, the killer, her husband. Obi-Wan was right … right and horribly wrong because here he was, not dead but …
"No, Padme, I am dead," he said, pushing her away. "I'm dead. Think of me as dead."
"Can you take the mask off?" she said.
He nodded. "For a minute."
Slowly he unhooked the breathing aparatus, pulled the tube out of his mouth. Then he closed his eyes while she kissed him, like a man in a dream trying to keep himself asleep. He was trying not to cry, he told her, she knew, not because he minded crying but because he wouldn't be able to breathe if he cried. He closed his eyes and pressed them against her hair. And for a long minute, two, maybe more, they sat like that, kissing.
Then she had to help him put the mask back on, and for a while longer they sat together in the dark. His arm wrapped around her for all the world as if it were five years ago back on Naboo and they were waiting for a routine trip back to Corescant. An ordinary separation.
"You have to get out of here," he said, at length.
"I'm not leaving without you," she said. She almost physically couldn't. She lay against his shoulder almost shuddering from exhaustion. He knew it too.
He put her gently away from him. "Padme, he'll come back. Any time now. I can't … he wants me to …"
"He can't hurt me," she whispered. "I know he can't hurt me. He never has before. All the world around me, but me, he leaves me untouched."
"I leave you untouched," Anakin said. "He is me. Only … different."
"Come with me," she said. "We'll find Yoda, he can help you."
"Yoda," he said, "He didn't want to help me when I was an innocent kid. Why should he bother with me now."
Padme heard his voice crack again, the anger and the disgust and knew she had made a mistake. He was coming back, or he was going back, or whatever it was that was happening. She got up quickly. "Ani?"
He got up, walked to the window. Started to pace. Pulled up the hood and stopped, pressed against the glass, for long, very long minutes
And the moment passed.
"Run away," he said. "Far away. Never let me know where to find you. Never let me know who else is alive or where they are or what has happened. Never be anywhere other than somewhere else. If you feel me coming again, Padme, run. I beg you. Because They wanted me to murder you tonight, finish my walk to the Dark Side. Palpatine. He knows you're the one I can't hate."
"But …"
"I may kill you yet," he said. "Get out of here. Go."
"The guards?"
He frowned, turned and pressed the call button. The square of light opened, left her blinking. She felt the pain in his eyes before she could imagine it.
"Take Senator Amidala to her ship," he said. "She is to be allowed to leave Corescant provided she goes immediately.
"Yes milord," they said. They took her elbows, and pushed her out. She turned, and saw him pressed against the glass, his arms wrapped around himself, just as the doors whispered shut.
She couldn't have said how she knew. She'd never been very sensitive, always so focused on blocking other people out. But she'd always been aware of him, since their marriage and since the children were born it was worse.
She knew they would have told her to run. She couldn't run. Exhaustion had worked its toll on her body. Besides a part of her … one she didn't trust, no not at all … a part of her wanted to let him find her.
Bail had her daughter, Obi-Wan had her son.
She would wait for her husband.
"Lady Skywalker," said the guard. And it startled her. Made her angry too. After all the trouble of hiding their relationship, he told the clones? But evil was as evil did, she supposed. After all, what was a few betrayed secrets after committing a genocide or two.
She sighed and tried to look dignified, but she really just wanted to go back to sleep. "Where is he?"
"You're to come with us, Lady," the creature said. He waved one armored gesture at her. She nodded and followed him to her own office. Or what had been her office. The guards ushered her in, and took their place in front of the door. The lights were off and she struggled to see. He stood silhouetted against the pale light of the city outside.
He stood at the window, looking out at the traffic below. He wore a hood and cloak and kept his back turned. "Leave us," he said. To the guards presumably. The door opened with a whisper, a brief square of dazzling light hit the floor for an instant. She closed her eyes, blinded for a moment.
When she opened them she was alone.
Alone with him.
"Do you always conduct business in the dark now, Ani?" she asked.
"That is not my name now," he said, his voice low. "Don't try my patience, Senator Amidala."
"Or you'll kill me?" she said. "Really, Ani. Don't you think I know you're going to kill me?"
He chucked. A shot of cold fear connected with her backbone. Anakin might have laughed, ought to have turned around, put his arms around her. How well you know me, Anakin would have said. Suddenly it was too much, to have this creature walking and talking and laughing her husband's laugh at her. She felt a surge of hot tears pricking her eyes.
"Your feelings betray you," the Dark Lord said. "Give in to them, Lady. Go ahead. Cry if you will."
"I know you can't read my mind … Ani." And this time she used the diminuative on purpose, a riposte to his parry. "You're trying to make me believe you can so I'll stand here on the carpet and blubber everything, aren't you. It doesn't matter. Everyone who isn't dead left long ago."
"Everyone but you," he answered.
Oh, dear, she really was going to start crying. She bit the inside of her cheek. "I wanted to see you."
The tall figure suddenly cringed, like he was pulling himself into his cloak against a strange wind. "You don't … want to see me … Senator …"
But formal title or no, his voice was rasping, different. He was breathing hard. Suddenly she went to the window and reached for the hood and while he backed away he made no real move to stop her.
The hood fell back, and she could see … well, his hair was gone, burned away. One side of his face and under his chin were twisted and scarred. He wore a breathing mask that blocked his nose and mouth. He made a little sound, like a panicked animal.
His eyes were the same. Large, blue, and incredibly terrified. For a mass murderer.
"Oh, what have they done to you?" she whispered, her hand touching his twisted face.
He pulled the cloak back over himself, stalked away from the window into shadow. "You … should not have done that. Senator Amidala. That little bit of impertinence will cost you dear."
"Oh, stop it Ani! Sit down and talk to me," she said.
And to her astonishment, he did.
"Why did you have to do that?" he said. "I look terrible."
Padme had no idea what to say to that. He killed hundreds of people but he thinks she'll reject him for his looks? She sat down on the edge of her desk, deeply tempted to scold this Dark Lord of the Sith like he was an eight year old boy. "Anakin … it is you, now. Isn't it."
He sighed. "For the moment."
"Lights?"
"They hurt my eyes," he said. "I mean I wasn't just being … I wasn't … I was afraid you'd be …"
"Angry?" she asked. "I am angry, you know."
"Yes, I know," he said, hanging his head miserably. "It's like a shout in my head. All the time. I know what you're feeling, Padme, you can't hide from me. Most of the time, anyway.…" He was quiet for a moment, then added, "He says you hate me now."
"Palpatine?" she asked.
"Vadar," he replied.
"Oh."
Obi-Wan had insisted that Vadar wasn't Anakin, that he was something else, living in the body of the man she used to love. She had assumed that was Obi-Wan's way of making himself feel better. Apparently not.
"He's not you?" she ventured.
"Oh, he's me," Anakin said, "And he's not me at all, really. I'm not separate from him, if you take my meaning. But I'm not completely … "
"Under his control?"
"Not always."
"Like right now?" she asked.
"Like right now," he said.
And then she was in his arms, holding his horrible scarred head in her two hands, kissing his eyes. Oh, not him, they're not the same, the killer, her husband. Obi-Wan was right … right and horribly wrong because here he was, not dead but …
"No, Padme, I am dead," he said, pushing her away. "I'm dead. Think of me as dead."
"Can you take the mask off?" she said.
He nodded. "For a minute."
Slowly he unhooked the breathing aparatus, pulled the tube out of his mouth. Then he closed his eyes while she kissed him, like a man in a dream trying to keep himself asleep. He was trying not to cry, he told her, she knew, not because he minded crying but because he wouldn't be able to breathe if he cried. He closed his eyes and pressed them against her hair. And for a long minute, two, maybe more, they sat like that, kissing.
Then she had to help him put the mask back on, and for a while longer they sat together in the dark. His arm wrapped around her for all the world as if it were five years ago back on Naboo and they were waiting for a routine trip back to Corescant. An ordinary separation.
"You have to get out of here," he said, at length.
"I'm not leaving without you," she said. She almost physically couldn't. She lay against his shoulder almost shuddering from exhaustion. He knew it too.
He put her gently away from him. "Padme, he'll come back. Any time now. I can't … he wants me to …"
"He can't hurt me," she whispered. "I know he can't hurt me. He never has before. All the world around me, but me, he leaves me untouched."
"I leave you untouched," Anakin said. "He is me. Only … different."
"Come with me," she said. "We'll find Yoda, he can help you."
"Yoda," he said, "He didn't want to help me when I was an innocent kid. Why should he bother with me now."
Padme heard his voice crack again, the anger and the disgust and knew she had made a mistake. He was coming back, or he was going back, or whatever it was that was happening. She got up quickly. "Ani?"
He got up, walked to the window. Started to pace. Pulled up the hood and stopped, pressed against the glass, for long, very long minutes
And the moment passed.
"Run away," he said. "Far away. Never let me know where to find you. Never let me know who else is alive or where they are or what has happened. Never be anywhere other than somewhere else. If you feel me coming again, Padme, run. I beg you. Because They wanted me to murder you tonight, finish my walk to the Dark Side. Palpatine. He knows you're the one I can't hate."
"But …"
"I may kill you yet," he said. "Get out of here. Go."
"The guards?"
He frowned, turned and pressed the call button. The square of light opened, left her blinking. She felt the pain in his eyes before she could imagine it.
"Take Senator Amidala to her ship," he said. "She is to be allowed to leave Corescant provided she goes immediately.
"Yes milord," they said. They took her elbows, and pushed her out. She turned, and saw him pressed against the glass, his arms wrapped around himself, just as the doors whispered shut.