Chapter 2 —

"I don't sit still very well," the Princess warns him, sprawling out on the stone bench.

Palo smiles faintly and blinks as another girl's lines and colors fade into Leia.

Eyes, less lashes on the bottom than Leia and the double lid more exotic, dart to glance at him before glimmering with a good-natured laugh.

"Why do you want to paint me anyway?" the 12 year old asks lightly and turns her head so he can see her lips twisted between a pout and a smirk. "I'm sure you could find a more gorgeous creature to grace your artwork."

"I don't want a gorgeous creature," he says, exasperated. "I want —,"

But somehow, 'I want you' seems...inappropriate. Instead, he says,

"Padme, you're pretty and you're...different."

Because that's what she was. Different. Still a girl with round cheeks, but she would be an extraordinary woman. He couldn't find the exact words to describe her. Not yet beautiful, but she would be.

"Palo?"

And the figure of his memory vanishes, leaving Leia who says his name almost with difficulty.

He mutters something about downing too much brandy last night and she doesn't ask any further. After all, doesn't her own Daddy, the esteemed Bail Organa, drink and drink more often now when bad news comes?

"Why do you want to paint me anyway?" Leia asks as she watches the man pause while setting up the easel.

He responds with a question of his own. "What do you know about Darth Vader?"

He has caught her interest now and she sits up, her eyes narrowed.

"He's a tyrant, him and the Emperor!" she bursts out. "A lifeless piece of black machinery that silences every whisperer, every thinker of rebellion with his sword. He's like this rabid dog that the Emperor unleashes whenever it suits his mood."

"You put a lot of thought into all that, haven't you Princess?" Palo murmurs wryly and then tells her to stay still so he can sketch her face. He prefers to paint the old way instead of using holos and other technology.

"I need to know the truth," she retorts firmly.

Careful, Princess. The truth could get you silenced by Lord's Vader sword.

Palo can feel her eyes on him. She's analyzing me, like a true politician.

"Why does Vader want a picture of me?"

"I don't know," Palo replies honestly. He can't lie to her. She would know or she would find out and she was the type that considered lying a capital crime.

Palo stopped in front of the door. And mused about his situation. He was going to face Darth Vader, up close and personal.

Why am I here? He wondered. Then he remembers the clone troopers living in his home, the clone troopers that shoved the barrels of their huge guns against his wife's temple. He is here for her and for his child that won't be allowed to wake up until he goes to Vader.

And here he is, wondering if after he enters those doors, will he come out? Will Vader keep his promise and order the troopers to leave his home, to leave his wife and child alone?

The doors slide open and snap shut as soon as he's in. But the infamous Sith Lord is not inside. There is no feeling of dread, of fear that echoes in your ears and makes your heart and soul ache. There is only the silence of the white room, completely unfurnished.

Except for the two paintings that lay down on the floor , side by side. Both paintings are his. One so old and one so new.

Palo kneeled to trace his finger down the frame of the first portrait. Padme. Padme Amidala. Twelve years old. Before she was a queen, and a senator, and before she was paraded dead and beautiful and preg...

But even though Padme had not yet been beautiful at 12, she was so in the painting. Beautiful and kind and...sad. No, not sad, Palo tells himself. Why would she be sad? She was serious, that' s it.

And the second portrait is of another girl. Leia Organa. But her face could've been 6 year old Padme's face and as Palo steps back to look at both, they melt together as one.

Padme. Leia. Beautiful, kind, but sad. The same. But Padme was pregnant when she died! Beautiful, pregnant, but dead.

And suddenly, his mouth goes dry because there is that sound behind him. That inhuman, harsh sound of a vacuum, of an icy wind, of something that feeds by sucking the light around it.

This is what I came here for, Palo tells himself and turns to face Lord Vader.