They had been raiding Reevera for a month now, destroying and pillaging the Rebel bases and anything in their way. Collecting key information to annihilate whatever scraps were left of the Rebellion. Which wasn't much to be honest—the death of Master Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi had been the quote on quote end of the Rebellion. Which was roughly two years ago.

It was a brutal bloodbath. Vader left a sleek red trail of it wherever he went. Until the whole planet was left to shambles. Until he could drown himself in the screams of his victims. Until his eyes were a burning bright crimson.

There was still one major city left to deplete—the city of Takah. But Vader didn't want his fun to end too soon, so he decided to take a detour through the rural villages—beating the planet of Reevera into submission. They refused to surrender. Small armies scattered throughout rolling hills and grasslands. Though their battle was lost, Vader had already won. They knew this, he knew this. But he would take the last remaining city down for kicks.

To show that he and his men weren't messing around. He'd been fighting the same battle since he was seventeen, now at twenty-three he was ready for the Rebellion to be entirely eliminated.

He'd been so blood hungry at seventeen, also very very lustful. Vader had spent those years eyeing/pursuing women and killing whoever was ordered to be dead. He remembered specifically, a certain Queen had been elected a few months before his debut battle. Padmé Amidala had been elected at the tender age of fourteen and had done everything in her power—which had been a lot—to keep Vader off her planet.

She fought tooth and nail, with every fiber in her being to keep Naboo safe. Vader had been too dumb to see her hard efforts then. Too caught up with how beautiful she was—how much he wanted her. Back then, like every other man, he wished to gain her attention and maybe even a little more.

But he did keep off her planet, not because of her efforts but because of his little crush. Or rather his infatuation with her looks.

Though she was still over the moon beautiful, now he was also well aware of how beautiful her mind was as well. Even more impressive than her looks.

Vader and his men stalked the grasslands, making a huge mess of the landscape. Stomping down on the wildlife and tearing up every plant in sight. He was high off the rush of battle—completely dazed. So were his men, one of them Malec Torny yanked up a red flower from the ground before handing it to Vader.

"Here, I'm sure your little fiance will appreciate it." Malec teased, laughing and earning some laughter from the men around them. Vader smirked, shoving the flower—roots and all—into his bag slung across his shoulder. "I mean Padmé Amidala, that's impressive even for you."

There were a series of nods. They were all drunk off the glory of winning.

"I heard she's a virgin." Jace said, grinning. There was a series of 'ooo's.

"All Nabuian Queens remain celibate until marriage, it's like a rule." Zevar muttered, he'd recently joined Vader's personal army. Originally a citizen to Naboo, joined about four months ago—but he'd been a lower class trooper for three years.

"Oh, Vader!" Rex called, shaking his head. Rex had been with Vader the longest, since Vader's first battle and he would be there for his last. He had the most leeway with what he was allowed to say to Vader, which was good because Rex hadn't ever been known to have a filter. "I don't know if I feel sorry or jealous of you. On one hand you get to pop that cherry on the other you probably haven't had sex in like a year." Rex scrunched his nose in disbelief. Vader eyed the bastard for a minute, giving him a side eye. Slightly smirking. He could just imagine how livid Padmé would be if she could hear this conversation.

"Our sex life is none of your conncern," Vader told him, shaking his head slightly. Before stalking forwards towards the city.

The city of Takah was in sight. Everything was quiet and everything was empty. Some people may have fled the city, maybe even the planet. But not everyone. They were hiding. Didn't they know it was easier to run from Vader than to hide from him.

He prowled the area looking for stragglers. Everything was too quiet. Vader smirked under his hood—something was coming, maybe something even a little challenging. Vader liked a challenge. Maybe that's why he enjoyed Senator Amidala so much. She challenged him. He didn't like to chase, he liked to fight. She always promised to put up a fight.

A man staggered, clutching his arm. A prey found, Vader pounced, swiftly moving over to the darker skinned man. A tattered t-shirt thrown across his body.

"Lord Vader, a pleasure you finally made it." The man cackled, was he ill or did he just have a death wish? Probably both. Damned rebels.

"Is everyone hiding?" Vader asked darkly with a hint of bitter amusement. He eyed the man, "I was hoping for more of a welcome." Instead of making the man whimper in fear—he just smiled more.

Vader deemed him ill. In the head.

The man cackled once more, his dusty locks giving off a reeking smell. "Most people have moved on, trying to make a new life somewhere else. But we all hope you like your welcoming gift." A welcoming gift? What was this fucking rebel talking about. "Well all pitched in to get it for you."

Vader's patience was running thin, "I don't think your stench is much of a welcoming gift." He spat at the rebel. "Tie him up, let him rot." Vader ordered his men who immediately threw the man to the ground, cuffing his wrists together.

The man continued to laugh hysterically.

"I should've known you haven't heard yet, too busy killing to pay attention to your fiance." He hissed in reply. This caught Vader's undivided attention. Padmé. What about Padmé?

"Excuse me?" Vader's voice dropped lower, as he grabbed the man's head, gripping it harshly in his hand. The man smiled psychotically, and for once in his life Vader felt unease at the presence of someone so pathetic.

"You've got to be the worst fiance in the galaxy, Vader." The man said, biting down on the cyanide in his mouth, "we killed her." The man spat before dropping dead.

Padmé Amidala was dead. And for the first time what seemed like forever Vader felt his blood run cold. A new and more consuming wave of anger engulfed him. And with his anger came hell.


The death threats weren't exactly new, but they were unsettling. Though Padmé had grown accustomed to them throughout her years as a public servant—they basically came in her job description—it never made them any more amusing to get. The people were angry, Lord Vader, her fiancé was out killing anything with a sliver of a heartbeat and since they couldn't hurt him, they inevitably went to her.

So the death threats piled up quicker than what Padmé thought possible. She understood their anger, she'd been indirectly fighting Vader her entire career and now here she was marrying the guy. She knew there would be repercussions. Hell, she was mad at the guy. He was tarnishing her reputation as well as his own—as if his reputation could get any worse.

It was a Tuesday—Dorme and Sabe had both come over for a well deserved self-care night. Though Padmé wouldn't admit it she had been feeling a little down lately, which the two had linked to Lord Vader's absences. But Padmé would sooner rot in hell than admit he had anything to do with her minor depressive state.

So what if she skips a few meals here and there? So what if she felt more inclined to stay inside then go out? So what if she felt angered about the fact that she did in fact harbor feelings for a man who was busy killing and destroying an entire planet?

"We should watch 'Daybreak'." Sabe squealed, grabbing the remote and searching for the ridiculously stupid vampire/werewolf movie about a romance between a human and vampire. Cullen Edwards and Swany Bell. It was an awful movie but pathetically entertaining. A perfect remedy for Padmé's uneasy mood.

"I second that." Dorme said politely, looking over to Padmé to see if there would be any interjection from her about Sabe's movie choice. Padmé said nothing, just grabbing her drink and taking a large gulp.

"Good, I'm feeling a tragic romance." Sabe winced realizing her self-inflicted issue with her choice of words. She looked apologetically over to Padmé, "sorry, I didn't mean to remind you of your tragic romance."

This bitch.

"I don't have a tragic romance." Padmé insisted, shooting Sabe a dirty look and then continuing to take another gulp of her drink. Maybe she should spike her own drink. It might just help her get through the night.

"Uh, yeah you do." Sabe countered, like it was obvious, "your fiance is a mindless killer who is away at war and you're saddened by his absence because you're hopelessly in love with him, duh. If that's not tragic, I don't know what it is." Sabe continued nonchalantly then shrugged before, scrolling to find the movie.

"I'm not in love with him." Padmé retorted, grabbing the vodka and spiking her drink.

"You have a crush on him." Sabe told her. Having a crush and being in love were two very different things.

"I can't believe you would bring it up." Padmé snapped at her, Sabe grinned.

"Gotta be honest with yourself, babes."

There was a loud bang on the door—it scared the shit of Dorme who let out a scream.

"What the fuck was that?" Sabe hissed, getting up and grabbing a blaster from the drawer, pointing it at the door. With all the death threats lately, Sabe wasn't risking it. She looked over at the two, "Padmé, go to your room, Dorme, go with her." Sabe said quietly as another loud bang on the door followed, cracking the thick wood. Dorme dragged Padmé out of the room, despite Padmé protests.

At the end of the day, Sabe and Dorme were handmaidens. Specifically trained to protect the former and current Queens of Naboo—they would willingly die for Padmé without hesitation and would do everything in their power to protect her. Even if that meant sacrificing themselves. Padmé felt her blood run cold as fear engulfed her body.

Sabe inched closer to the door, hiding behind a wooden dresser against the wall. Her heart was pounding in anticipation. She pointed the blaster, waiting for what was to come. The door busted open and Sabe aimed the blaster at the lean figure covered head to toe in black. She shot her blaster—the attacker dodged it, running towards Sabe and tried to grab her throat. Sabe moved, rolling herself out of the way. Shooting the blaster once more to avail.

The attacker jumped out of the way. Disappearing in the shadows—shit. Sabe inched closer to where she thought the attacker was hiding in the dimly lit room, she pointed the blaster before someone threw a bag over her head blocking her vision and slamming something really hard into her head. Pain engulfed her as she let out a cry. Her vision fading, she felt herself fall into unconsciousness.

They left her on the floor—alive but unconscious. No reason to kill the handmaiden, they had been specifically ordered just to kill the Senator not the handmaidens. The two attackers retreated to the Senator's chambers, finding the other handmaiden and the Senator hiding in the closet. He knocked the Senator out by slamming his blaster into her jaw and shooting her dead. Shot straight in the head, blood pooled on the floor. She didn't even have the chance to scream.

He checked the for the symbol behind her ear to make sure it was really Senator. All Nabuian Queens were marked with the symbol of a cross behind their ear. Low and behold it was there.

Senator Amidala is dead. He grinned.

The other attacker grabbed the screaming handmaiden—no one said they couldn't hurt her. It would be wise to make sure neither handmaiden could contact the authorities until they could make it off this goddamn planet. He stabbed her in her left side with a small blade, letting her blood stain the silk fabric of her skimpy pajamas, before taking a gold chain attempting to strangle her. Ignoring her screams and her fingers clutching at the golden chain. His companion gripped the handmaiden's hands, yanking them away from her throat. Her breaths grew labored and they could sense her also slipping into unconsciousness. They let her drop to the floor before stalking out the apartment.

How sweet it was when the mission went successfully.


He set fire to the city, burning everything in sight. Anger pulsed through his veins. Why, why her? Those were the only thoughts that were crossing his mind. Vader had burned the dead man who told him, who was partially responsible for the Senator's death. Then he burned the city down. He burned it and he watched it burn. Still not satisfied with the destruction he was causing. It wasn't enough. This would never be enough.

Why was he so angry? He didn't hold any feelings for the Senator, did he? So why was there this aching burn in his chest where his heart rested? Why did he feel like he was in agony?

Vader didn't believe the man at first—the first stage of grief was denial—but in his logic he had no reason to grieve the Senator since he hadn't been aware he held any attachment to her. So, he had been sure that he wasn't in denial, just that the man was a lunatic and unreliable source. His men on the other hand didn't think so. It wasn't until Zevar unwillingly showed him the tabloids, multiple articles, and interview clips that Vader realized Padmé Amidala was in fact dead.

He was now dabbling in the second stage of grief—anger. If there was one thing Vader was good at was being angry. He let his anger consume him. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he watched the city burn with pain and tears in his eyes. He didn't understand why he was crying—though he wasn't exactly ashamed of it either.

None of his men spoke to him. Too surprised about Vader's uncharacteristic reaction to the Senator's death. Rex did clap Vader's shoulder after handing him a beer, which Vader drank reluctantly and then immediately threw up afterwards.

It was the fourth night of watching the city burn to ash that he came to terms with his feelings for Padmé Amidala. It explained a lot, why he was so willing to do things for her. Why he felt compelled to see her and make her smile. Why he didn't mind holding her in his arms. Why he was in so much pain. He realized he'd spent the better part of two last years unconsciously falling in love with her. All that time he spent listening to her thoughts, untangling and figuring out the beauty of her mind, he had been falling into love.

And now he realized he loved her, and she was gone.

He spent that night crying, lazily drinking the beers that Rex or Jace kept handing to him as he laid on his back, with his head resting on a log. Tears pooling down his face as he shot the empty beer bottles Zevar was throwing in the air with his blaster.

Still none of his men said anything.

"WHY!?" He screamed on the sixth night, doing the same damned thing they did the last couple of nights. It was the first time he spoke in days. "Why did it have to be her!?" Vader stood up, chucking the beer in his hand into the campfire they set up earlier that night. "She didn't deserve to die!" Vader yelled, tears welding up into his eyes. He shook his head angrily. "She deserved the world." The agony in his voice, the broken promise that he had not been able to give that to her.

"Vader—" Rex started, the first person to speak to him in days.

"—I loved her!" Vader shouted, looking up at the starry sky, "fuck, I love her." He sounded defeated. He kicked a piece of wood and shot it through the dark, breaking into pieces by the force he was using.

Rex gripped Vader's shoulder, "she's gone, but her killers aren't." Rex told him, Vader stiffened, looking over at Rex. "Don't do what Leo did, don't shut yourself down—find the killer, avenge her." Rex gripped his shoulder harder, trying to get through to his General, his friend.

Leo Mangan—a former trooper of Vader's personal army had lost his wife and the end wasn't pretty for him. Out on a battlefield with a blaster and no reason to live—anyone could draw that conclusion.

Vader thought about it and the more he did, the more blood thirsty he was. He wanted whoever was involved, whoever shot the bullet in cell where he would torture and eventually kill.

Vader eyed Rex, "we leave tomorrow at dawn."

He would find her killer and he would return the favor.


Thirty missed calls from Darred, two missed calls from Jobal, and three hundred and four missed calls from Sabé. How wonderfully Sabé of her to do so. If she wasn't so obnoxiously annoying and he was in a better mood then maybe Vader would have called her back–but he was majorly pissed off. His fiance just died and he wasn't happy about it.

Rex was sitting in the co-pilot's seat to his right, Jace was sitting behind him and Zevar was sitting behind Rex. They were flying directly towards Coruscant, not as fast as Vader would've liked, but Rex convinced him that he needed a plan of action before savagely hunting someone down.

Considering how he rashly left his entire army on the planet they just destroyed, taking a small fighter pilot to get to Coruscant, and leaving Captain Blaine in charge of his army.

Vader sighed loudly, dialing Jobal's number and hitting talk. It was right to call Padmé's mother first.

She picked up on the first ring, "Oh, thank goodness you called—"

"—what the fuck!?" Sabe had apparently commandeered the phone away from Jobal. "You, are a star-forsaken fucking idiot." Sabe spat through the phone, Rex's eyebrows shot up. Who in the hell ever spoke to Vader like that? He wasn't even allowed to do that.

"Sabe, give the phone back to Jobal." Vader ordered her but he might as well not have.

"Please, like I'm going to do that—" Vader hung up on her, he didn't want to deal with her right now. Vader called Darred. He picked up on the second ring.

Vader spoke as soon as he got the line, "Darred, keep the phone away from Sabe."

"Stars, if you're as dumb as I think you are." Sabe sinestly giggled, Vader groaned as Rex started to silently laugh. This girl was a piece of work.

"Sabe, I swear—"

"—will you shut up and listen to me," Sabe snapped at him, "Padmé's alive." She said finally and Vader went still.

"Sabe," Vader began, not sure if he should believe her. "If this is some sick joke you're playing….." he trailed off, his heart pounding.

"It's not, just get to Naboo now. We'll explain everything when you get here." Sabe told him, he took a deep breath. Jace gripped his shoulder from behind him.

"Is–is she okay," he asked after a long moment of silence.

"Aside from the fact that she's high as hell from the painkillers." Sabe responded immediately and Vader could practically hear her smirk. He didn't entirely believe her yet. "Look, just get here as fast as you can—she's been asking for you." There was an edge in Sabé's voice, she was definitely hiding something from him. But what?

Vader didn't linger on for long though, too caught up in the fact that Padmé had been asking for him. If he had the option to grin giddily he would've but unfortunately he didn't. Too many people around him. He kept his face neutral, nodding once to himself.

"I'll be there in two hours." They were at least nineteen hours away from Naboo and Vader wanted to get there in two. Rex could already feel himself getting sick at the thought.

Vader hung up the phone not waiting a second to push the fighter pilot for speeds that were practically unattainable. Through the duration of the trip, Rex had only thrown up once—which he considered an accomplishment considering the absolute tragedy that was Darth Vader's reckless driving.

He'd flown through an asteroid field at a speed that should have been illegal and had them blown up in a crash if his reflexes weren't so damn impressive. He'd been going so fast that he broke the heat shields and they had to take a twenty minute stop on Viella so Jace could fix it. And fuck, Vader had been a pain in the ass during those slow twenty minutes.

Pacing like a goddamned madman, practically yanking his own hair out. If Rex wasn't stupid he would've sedated the guy. One thing's for sure—Darth Vader was fucking whipped for Padmé Amidala. Which Rex could totally understand, Padmé Amidala was the galaxy's golden girl. She'd been the Queen of Naboo and the people adored her—still adore her. Zevar still looked up to her as his Queen and he probably always would.

It had taken them two hours and twenty minutes to get to the Lake Country—a delay thanks to the heat shield. Vader would be sending in an order to have those improved for the next line of fighter pilots. Them burning up and malfunctioning like that would be something he'd like to avoid in the future.

They exited the ship, Vader was anxious, anyone with eyes could see that. Though no one said anything. Too scared to say anything—no one knew the protocol for this type of situation. It would be best to stay quiet and out of Darth Vader's way.

A girl opened the front door of the house, long ebony hair in an intricate bun. Another girl followed behind, looking more wild and curious than the other.

"Two hours, eh?" The second girl commented, clearly amused that they had been twenty minutes late. "Get stuck in space traffic?" She asked knowingly, making Vader want to bash her head in. He didn't.

"Sabe," Vader stepped inside the house, his men following suit. So this was the girl on the phone. Very cheeky, very pretty. She rolled her eyes at Vader's lacking response though she didn't intend him to have anything much to say to her. "Where is Padmé?" He asked, after failing to find her.

Did Sabe lie to him after all? He felt his gut churn.

"She's asleep," Sola told him, "she hasn't been doing very well—Dorme's death really took a toll on her, I think." Sola walked them over towards the living room where Padmé laid asleep on the couch, nestled in a blanket.

Vader felt himself take a deep breath. His heart swelled and finally allowed himself to relax as he looked upon her. Alive. Breathing. Her force signature was tired and in grief. Dorme. Sola had said Dorme's death—Dorme had been the one to die that night, not Padmé. Relief washed over him and he didn't feel an inch of guilt for it.

"Is she in any pain?" Vader asked, swallowing hard. There was no way she got out of the situation unharmed. Was he prepared to know exactly what they did to her that night? He'd have to be.

"It was a small stab wound in her left side, just above hip." Sola muttered softly, trying not to cry as she looked warily at her sister. "They—they tried to strangle her." She barely whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.

Vader took a deep breath, processing the information, screaming at himself to stay calm, and barely managing to complete that task. He stepped closer to Padmé, pressing his fingers to her pulse. And there was his beautiful proof, a steady, soft, pulse. He willed the force around her to calm and become peaceful, allowing her to sleep deeper.

Even asleep she looked tired.

"We should let her sleep." Vader finally said, "I'll take her to her room." He ignored the suggestive look he received from Rex—Sabe apparently didn't care enough to do anything. She just nodded, before allowing him to do so without any sort of comments or complaints.

"Can I get you guys anything to drink? Water, tea, beer, a lemonade?" Sola asked, trying to be a good host to the three other imperials in her parents' living room.

Rex's ear perked up, "I would love a lemonade." Sola smiled at his enthusiasm, nodding before grabbing a glass as Vader lifted Padmé gently in his arms taking her to her bedroom. Allowing himself to hold her while she slept against his side.

It gave him immense relief to feel her body breath against him, to feel her heart underneath his hand. He tried not to gaze at the scarring on her throat, purple bruises painted across in a horizontal line. And he definitely did not want to know what was underneath the bandage above her left hip.

It would only enrage him.

Well, enrage him even more—he was already in a foul mood to begin with.

Vader didn't know how long he laid next to her, holding her close to him. It wasn't until Padmé stirred that he got knocked out of his trance-like state. Her eyes flickered open, adjusting to the sunlight that shined through the pale pink plaid curtains that hung loosely over the windows. She squinted, yawning—her room smelled of sleep, citrus, and Vader's cologne…?

Lifting her head from her pillow, she squirmed noticing that something was holding her down. She looked over her shoulder disoriented, Vader laid beside her. What? When did he get here?

He looked content and young—he didn't have his regular scowl and brooding/intimidating look. He seemed almost childlike, but not happy. What a silly thought.

Padmé blinked at him, "what time is it?" She asked after a moment, her voice thick with sleep.

He stared at her, his expression completely unreadable. Reaching out for her face, his hand gripped the side of her cheek. Brushing his thumb lightly over her cheekbone—a light red blush spread across where his thumb touched.

Vader moved over her, pressing his mouth to hers. His other hand in her hair. Whatever possessed him to kiss her had crushed whatever self control he thought he had. He technically wasn't breaking the contract—as long as he didn't move his hands down her body and trace his fingers against her curves then he was technically in the clear.

But his self control was breaking. And her lips tasted so good.

Cherry flavored lip balm would be his undoing.

Padmé shoved against his chest, pushing him off of her. She scrambled away from him, nearly falling off the bed in the process. Her eyes were wild with anger—what had he done?

"What—"

"—what the hell is wrong with you!?" Padmé hissed, trying not to wince in pain at her sudden movements jerking on her stitches.

What the fuck possessed him to kiss her, after the crimes he just committed. He must've been truly sick in the head to think she would willingly go anywhere near him.

"Get away from me!" She curled her comforter around her, shielding herself from his gaze. "Stop looking at me!"

"Padmé—"

"—how could you!?" Her voice broke, tears welding in her eyes. "Those people, they lived there, they had families, they had lives! How could you go out there and burn their entire home to ash!?" She was mad about the invasion of Reevera, she should've expected it. Just because he was nice to her doesn't mean he would be to everyone else. He was only nice to her because he had to be. He felt obligated to be.

Vader stared at her, trying to think of a response that wouldn't set her off even more and then failing to do so. "Reevera was swarming with Rebels—Rebels that tried to kill you." He all but growled the last words he spoke to her. His expression darkened. "Did you think I was going to play nice with them?"

"Some of them were innocent!" She snapped back, a fire burning in her eyes. "Some of them were children, mothers, fathers, grandparents, and you burned them." She barely spoke above a whisper.

Vader rolled his eyes, annoyed with her conclusion about the situation. "The city was basically evacuated, Padmé."

"Did you check?" She retorted quickly, "or did you just believe whatever they told you?" Tears burned in her eyes as they threatened to spill over. "Like you believed I was dead." Her comparison only pissed him off even more—that and the fact that she was questioning him.

Vader sighed, "I'm done having this conversation." He was angry, he was tired, and he was not in the mood to argue.

"I'm not!"

"People die, Padmé! It's how the world works!" Great now he was shouting too. "No one is going to stop shooting at each other because you declare it inhumane!"

Vader had never seen her look so infuriated.

"Burning innocent people isn't inhumane! It's monstrous!" Padmé screamed at him, getting off the bed and ignoring the searing pain in her side as she walked towards the door.

He'd slaughtered the entire planet and felt no remorse for his actions. She looked at him horrified. This was the man she was marrying, the father of her future children. Would he treat them the same way he treated other children?

"Then I'm a monster, Padmé!" Vader hissed back, god, he really wanted to kiss her. But he also wanted to punch something. He was so fucking mad.

"You're not even sorry!" She shrieked, wiping her tears as she reached for the door handle. "God, your a fucking psychopath!" She yanked the door open and he slammed it shut with a wave of his fingers.

"Don't you dare walk away from me." He growled at her, watching her tear stained face—if even possible—turn more infuriated with him. "They tried to kill you, Padmé. Of course I burned the goddamned city, and you know what else—I'm going to kill whoever was stupid enough to try to kill you and I'm not going to feel guilty about it. Because like it or not, you're mine, Angel." Vader spoke wildly, his eyes blood thirsty and greedy.

She swallowed thickly, a fresh set of tears made her way down her face. She hated herself for liking him. "I hate you." Her voice broke as she spoke the words they knew were a lie.

Vader stepped closer to her. "Well, I love you."

She felt her heart stop.