Still His Angel
Padmé Skywalker woke up confused. She didn't know where she was, or how
she got there. All she knew was that she was in an unfamiliar ship, there was very
little light and she could only see one thing; a man. He was bent over a datapad,
she could tell he wasn't reading it, he was watching her. The man turned to her; he
was dressed all in black, and looked intimidating. The only thing she saw clearly
are his eyes, they looked familiar, almost too familiar.
'No, it's not possible.' She thought 'He's dead.'
Lord Vader realized his 'guest' had woken up and turned his attention to her.
"Who are you?" she asked.
'Who am I?' he thought 'how can she not know who I am?'
"Who are you?" he returned sharply.
"I assumed you knew." She responded with the slightest hint of sarcasm.
"I'm not sure you're the person I'm looking for." He was uncharacteristically
honest with this woman, although he didn't understand why.
"Then why did you take me?" she asked, becoming angry.
"I had to take the chance." He answered indifferently.
"But why? Why is whoever you're looking for so important?"
"Years ago, she was the most important person in my life. Now, I've lost her
forever." He said, so softly she was forced to strain in order to hear him.
"That must be terrible." She said in sympathy.
"It is. You cannot imagine how terrible it is."
"Yes. I can." She said, with a slight edge to her voice. Who was this man to tell
her what she could and couldn't understand?
"How could you? You don't have the faintest understanding of what it is like." He
said, anger now seeping into his previously soft voice. Who did this woman think
she was? No one understood what he was going through. No one.
"You think I don't know what it is like? Try losing your husband five years ago.
Try living without the person who means the world to you. Try waking up every
morning, knowing you will never see him again. Try living a half-person every
day of your life. I haven't been whole since he died. He was my life. And you are
sad because your little girlfriend left you? Not that I blame her." She asked, her
temper beginning to get the better of her. How dare this man think his little
melodrama is anything worse than what I've been through. I've been through hell
and back, and he's sad cause he lost his girlfriend? How dare he?
"Shut up, you stupid woman. You don't know what you are talking about. First of
all, she was my wife not my girlfriend and I loved her with all my heart, I still do.
She was all I lived for. She kept me alive when I should have died. And now, I
know I'll never see her again. Even worse, I know it's my fault!".
"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. What was she like?" Padmé's voice at once turned to
sympathy.
"She was the most amazingly beautiful woman in the world. She had the deepest
brown eyes, the softest brown hair. She wasn't just beautiful, she had the perfect combination of beauty and intelligence, innocence and allure, courage and
integrity. She was kind, compassionate, and as determined as hell. She was the
perfect woman; she was my perfect woman. She still is." His voice instantly
became much softer, more loving. He spoke as though he was talking to himself,
not to Padmé.
"She sounds lovely." Padmé's voice seemed to pull him out of a daydream of
sorts.
"What about you? What was your husband like?" He asked, as he came back to
reality.
"He was amazing. He had the most startlingly beautiful blue eyes, and the most
wonderful blond hair. He had the most adorable half smile that made him look like
he was always happy, even when I knew he wasn't. He was so smart, a little
impulsive, but I loved him for it. He was strong as hell; not just physically, but
mentally and emotionally as well. Nothing scared him. He was always there for
me. And he had a stubborn streak a mile long." Padmé's voice took on a lustful
tone that mirrored his exactly
"He sounds nice."
"He was."
"After he died, did you ever stop loving him?"
"No. How could I? After all we'd been through together? After all he had done for
me? All he had given up for me? I've never stopped loving him. I don't think I
ever will. What about you? Did you ever stop loving your wife?"
How could I? She was the reason I lived. She was the reason the sun rose in the
morning and set in the evening. She was my everything. How can you stop loving
someone after that, even after they're gone?"
"I don't suppose you do." Padmé answered wistfully.
"Can I ask you a question?" He felt as though he could really talk to this woman,
even though he had just met her. It seemed she understood him like no one else, no
one else except Her.
"Of course." She answered. Oh, no, what is he going to ask me? What if I can't
answer him?
There was an uncomfortable pause. Both expecting the other to break it first. After
several minutes, Padmé broke it.
"Well?" she asked, with growing apprehension.
"Are you an angel?" he asked, in all seriousness, praying the she remembers that
time back in Watto's shop.
"Ani?" she asks incredouly. She does remember.
The end.
Padmé Skywalker woke up confused. She didn't know where she was, or how
she got there. All she knew was that she was in an unfamiliar ship, there was very
little light and she could only see one thing; a man. He was bent over a datapad,
she could tell he wasn't reading it, he was watching her. The man turned to her; he
was dressed all in black, and looked intimidating. The only thing she saw clearly
are his eyes, they looked familiar, almost too familiar.
'No, it's not possible.' She thought 'He's dead.'
Lord Vader realized his 'guest' had woken up and turned his attention to her.
"Who are you?" she asked.
'Who am I?' he thought 'how can she not know who I am?'
"Who are you?" he returned sharply.
"I assumed you knew." She responded with the slightest hint of sarcasm.
"I'm not sure you're the person I'm looking for." He was uncharacteristically
honest with this woman, although he didn't understand why.
"Then why did you take me?" she asked, becoming angry.
"I had to take the chance." He answered indifferently.
"But why? Why is whoever you're looking for so important?"
"Years ago, she was the most important person in my life. Now, I've lost her
forever." He said, so softly she was forced to strain in order to hear him.
"That must be terrible." She said in sympathy.
"It is. You cannot imagine how terrible it is."
"Yes. I can." She said, with a slight edge to her voice. Who was this man to tell
her what she could and couldn't understand?
"How could you? You don't have the faintest understanding of what it is like." He
said, anger now seeping into his previously soft voice. Who did this woman think
she was? No one understood what he was going through. No one.
"You think I don't know what it is like? Try losing your husband five years ago.
Try living without the person who means the world to you. Try waking up every
morning, knowing you will never see him again. Try living a half-person every
day of your life. I haven't been whole since he died. He was my life. And you are
sad because your little girlfriend left you? Not that I blame her." She asked, her
temper beginning to get the better of her. How dare this man think his little
melodrama is anything worse than what I've been through. I've been through hell
and back, and he's sad cause he lost his girlfriend? How dare he?
"Shut up, you stupid woman. You don't know what you are talking about. First of
all, she was my wife not my girlfriend and I loved her with all my heart, I still do.
She was all I lived for. She kept me alive when I should have died. And now, I
know I'll never see her again. Even worse, I know it's my fault!".
"Oh, God. I'm so sorry. What was she like?" Padmé's voice at once turned to
sympathy.
"She was the most amazingly beautiful woman in the world. She had the deepest
brown eyes, the softest brown hair. She wasn't just beautiful, she had the perfect combination of beauty and intelligence, innocence and allure, courage and
integrity. She was kind, compassionate, and as determined as hell. She was the
perfect woman; she was my perfect woman. She still is." His voice instantly
became much softer, more loving. He spoke as though he was talking to himself,
not to Padmé.
"She sounds lovely." Padmé's voice seemed to pull him out of a daydream of
sorts.
"What about you? What was your husband like?" He asked, as he came back to
reality.
"He was amazing. He had the most startlingly beautiful blue eyes, and the most
wonderful blond hair. He had the most adorable half smile that made him look like
he was always happy, even when I knew he wasn't. He was so smart, a little
impulsive, but I loved him for it. He was strong as hell; not just physically, but
mentally and emotionally as well. Nothing scared him. He was always there for
me. And he had a stubborn streak a mile long." Padmé's voice took on a lustful
tone that mirrored his exactly
"He sounds nice."
"He was."
"After he died, did you ever stop loving him?"
"No. How could I? After all we'd been through together? After all he had done for
me? All he had given up for me? I've never stopped loving him. I don't think I
ever will. What about you? Did you ever stop loving your wife?"
How could I? She was the reason I lived. She was the reason the sun rose in the
morning and set in the evening. She was my everything. How can you stop loving
someone after that, even after they're gone?"
"I don't suppose you do." Padmé answered wistfully.
"Can I ask you a question?" He felt as though he could really talk to this woman,
even though he had just met her. It seemed she understood him like no one else, no
one else except Her.
"Of course." She answered. Oh, no, what is he going to ask me? What if I can't
answer him?
There was an uncomfortable pause. Both expecting the other to break it first. After
several minutes, Padmé broke it.
"Well?" she asked, with growing apprehension.
"Are you an angel?" he asked, in all seriousness, praying the she remembers that
time back in Watto's shop.
"Ani?" she asks incredouly. She does remember.
The end.