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A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm

By Rose-Arwen-Padmé

Swirling Emotions

He had forgotten how green everything was—or how blue. The baby blue of the sky, the sapphire blue of the oceans. He had forgotten how the waterfalls fell in such terrible fury, yet their power never veered from their path; the gravitational pull was too strong. He had had an anchor like that too, long ago, something to keep his fury from consuming everything around him. However, that pull, instead of being a geographic force from the center of a planet, had been of chocolate locks of hair, red lips, and two brown pools that he had spent mornings, evenings, and nights drowning in…

Darth Vader clenched his mechanical hand into a fist and brought it crashing down upon the transport's counter top, leaving a dent that no one would ever care to fix.

Damn! He had known that revisiting Naboo would bring up memories of that weaklings life, the life that he used to call his own, yet he had still set a goal of trying keep his head clear. But as soon as the transport ship he was on from the Executor had emerged past Naboo's white clouds, and he had caught his first sight of the planet in ten years, his head had been anything but clear. Things change, Darth Vader thought reluctantly, and furiously, to himself. Especially when they are taken from you.

Of course, in reality the planet had diminished some in ten years, the tight-grip of Emperor Palpatine having choked some of its beauty, but Vader stood nevertheless in awe of the glamour before him. At that moment, a rare one, he was glad he was wearing a mask. He became angry just at the thought of what the other main commands around him might think if they saw his eyes, which no doubt were wide in wonder. If Vader had looked around, he would have seen that the others weren't paying attention to anything, not even him—all of their eyes were transfixed on the lush planet emerging quickly in front of them.

Vader commanded himself to get a tight grip on his dangerous emotions. Darth Vader, Sith Lord, did not stand in awe of something. He destroyed it. He did allow the painful memories, and no other, to intrude into his mind. The recollections of the last time he had been on Naboo hounded him. He concentrated on one memory in particular.

---FLASHBACK---

"Where is she!"

"Please—"

"I won't ask you again, Bibble." He tightened his mental, but still physical hold on the old man's neck, his fingers idly by his side. Then, they had still been of flesh, blood, and bone, as had the rest of him, except his right arm.

"Senator Amidala is not here!" Sio Bibble croaked, gasping for breath. "I swear!"

The hooded figure snickered evilly. "I don't believe you." He growled, "My patience is almost out."

Sio Bibble looked at the tall figure, trembling with fright. Despite the man's words, he felt the grasp on his windpipe lessen a little. This… man… was desperate, absolutely frantic to know where Amidala was. He tried looking under the black hood, wondering what person so evil could want with such a peaceful young woman. Thank the gods the Senator wasable to escape the clutches of this madman.

"AHH!" Anakin exclaimed angrily. "You do know where the senator is!"

Frightened now more than ever, Sio Bibble realized the cloaked figure had read his mind. After little thought, the realization struck him, and a freezing shiver spread through his body.

"Y-you're a Sith." It was a statement, not a question.

Anakin nodded his head slowly. "Very good, Bibble. Yes, you Nubians have had enough experience with the Sith, haven't you?" He stepped closer, making the old man tremble with terror even more, and this time Anakin replaced the Force with his own left hand around Sio Bibble's neck. "But look around." He paused for several moments, as if waiting for something. "LOOK AROUND!"

Not wasting a moment's breath, Sio Bibble looked around frantically, not sure what he was supposed to be looking for.

"Yes," Anakin hissed, enjoying the panic radiating off the man. "There are no Jedi Knights here to protect you from the Sith. No…" he paused, his face boiling up into a mask of pure hatred underneath the black hood. "No Obi-Wan Kenobi here to save you. But don't worry… I'll find him soon enough. I have some issues to settle with the liar."

Obi Wan Kenobi had come to be honored as one of the most esteemed heroes of Naboo after the Trade Federation battle. His defeat of the Sith lord had earned him prized Nubian titles, monuments, and even some songs composed in his honor. With all the dignity he could muster, with all the bravery still locked somewhere unknown inside his racing heart, noble Sio Bibble, royal advisor, drew himself up and looked at the hood (he guessed where the eyes were) and said defiantly, "Obi-Wan Kenobi was one of the greatest beings I have ever met. You couldn't even dream of being half the man he ever was. I almost pity you. Almost."

Sio Bibble never felt his skull crack open as it impacted the stone pillar thirty feet away. He didn't feel his body ricochet off the pillar with tremendous speed and lay in a heap of limbs on the floor. Although he did hear the blood-curling yell of absolute rage echo in his ears as he sailed across the room, his neck had broken before he was railed into the column.

Anakin clenched his fists in fury once again and a growl of anger escaped his throat. He had meant for the old man to feel the crush of his own skull, but his vehemence had caused him to kill the nobleman before he had reached the intended destination of death.

The last time he had seen his wife had been on her veranda the night he'd stormed into the Jedi Temple. They'd met, embraced, kissed, and he'd tried to soothe her worries with his new assignment on a planet "far away" that would end the war. That was the last time he'd seen her. The assignment on Mustafar had gone well to his master's liking, but when he returned to the capital planet, he'd discovered that Padmé had been taken from him. Video records from her apartment show that Jedi Obi Wan Kenobi came to speak to his wife one afternoon, but, by the looks of things, the conversation was short, tense, and Kenobi didn't get whatever want he'd wanted by the time of his departure. Later video records showed Kenobi and another tall figure sneaking in during the night and taking his pregnant, defenseless wife. She'd put up a struggle as much as she could, but her motherly burden had limited her in her fight.

Anakin grabbed the nearest person of importance he saw out of the lineup of six other people who possibly knew her location. He had already slaughtered Queen Apailana, Captain Typho, Captain Panaka, and now Sio Bibble. He faintly wondered if this blonde handmaiden, who couldn't have been older than fifteen years of age, would meet similar fates as he pulled her in front of him.

"WHERE IS PADME!" he bellowed. He had lied to Sio Bibble. His patience had been spent back at Queen Apailana's soft "no".

He watched the young girl, dressed in blue handmaiden's garb, take a brief look at the four dead bodies around her. By the endless fear on her face it was evident that she did not wish to join them. Good, he thought. Maybe I will finally know where she is after all. The young one had been no more than two years-old when Queen Amidala had faced the Trade Federation; therefore, the emotional bond to the event was not as strong as it was to her elders, however much she admired the esteemed Amidala. To her, it was a historical event—she didn't have the emotional attachment of actually living through the terror like others did.

"I-I-I know where Se-Senator Ami-idala is," the young handmaiden stuttered, her intense fear causing her to stumble over her words.

An older female member down the line, once silent, stepped forward despairingly. "No Yomané! Don't tell him! Don't!"

With a flick of Anakin's wrist, the other handmaiden's neck was broken. Her dead body crumpled to the ground, her eyes still wide with urgency.

"Now… where is the senator?" Anakin asked, his voice full of an eerie dead calm.

"She's not in Theed."

"That's obvious, girl. I am short on time." Anakin, believing this girl did in fact know of Padmé's situation, jumped ahead a few questions. "And the child?"

The girl looked at him differently, her amazement temporarily blanketing her fear.

"SHE WAS WITH CHILD!" Anakin shouted, annoyed by how much time this was taking. By now Padmé would be more than eight months along. In his day and evening nightmares he dreamt she was in labor right then, as he desperately searched to find her, to be with her when she gave birth to their child—to ensure that she lived past childbirth. Each moment that passed tore at his soul.

The handmaiden bowed her head. She murmured something that Anakin was not able to pick up.

"What? WHAT DID YOU SAY!"

Yomané swallowed. "Stillborn."

The young man could have sworn that his breaking heart skipped several beats. Anakin struggled to breath. He was sure he had not heard her right. He stood there for several minutes, unwilling to believe.

There was no anger, no hatred, and no trace of any malice in his quiet voice. "St…stilborn? Is that what you said, Yomané?" This was not the voice of a Sith Lord. It was the trembling voice of a broken-hearted father, only beginning to mourn the loss of his first child. It was a voice of a man who only wanted to wrap his arms around his loving wife, to be her companion and for her to be his companion through their mutual grief. He needed Padmé, now more than ever. "Yomané?"

Yomané lifted her head. The black hood had moved, and she looked into two miserable, heartbreaking blue eyes, eyes that only she could see from her angle, and eyes that she had never seen before. His soft whisper of her name dissipated some of her fears. It was a voice that had joked with its Jedi Master, bragged about pod-racing, and stolen the heart of an angelic woman. She could not refuse it.

"Yes," she replied meekly. "Yes, sir. The poor child was stillborn."

Anakin let out a shaky breath. He would not cry in front of these people. "And the mother?" he asked hesitantly, trying to swallow down his building fear.

The entire room was silent, waiting for Yomané's response. "Overcome with grief—" Anakin let out another shaky breath that sounded like a sudden sob—"No one could console her. She wept constantly, for the baby… and for the father. She moaned that she had lost both."

Anakin closed his eyes while crystal tears ran down his cheeks. More and more of him was dying with every word. "And... what has she said of the father?"

Yomané bowed her head. "She would not tell a soul. She carried the secret with her to the very end."

Anakin stood there for a moment, his emotions swirling inside of—wait. He stood stock-still. He dared not breathe.

"Say that again."

Obediently, Yomané repeated, "She wouldn't tell a soul. We tried, but she wouldn't say who the fath—"

He gasped, "No!" Oh, no, Padmé, please… "…the last part," he whispered, the words barely audible. He wanted to shut his eyes, shut his ears, shut his very soul. But Anakin knew that if he shut his eyes he wouldn't believe what his ears would hear, and he could not shut away his bleeding soul. He forced himself to watch the words that cut his heart like nothing, not even his mother dying in his arms, ever had.

"Senator Amidala died. They say the cause was of extreme sleep deprivation and lack of nutrition. She didn't bother to take care of herself. But the truth is… in the end she died of a broken heart."

Yomané could have been forgiven. Anakin, after several silent moments, would have let the words pass, seeing as how he knew this girl had no idea she was talking to the husband of Padmé Amidala Skywalker. Anakin wouldn't have punished her for her words thatshattered his heart.

But Anakin Skywalker died the moment Yomané's words died on her lips.

He started breathing hard, panting really. He wasn't coherent enough to know whether or not he was speaking his thoughts aloud, If my Padmé can't be alive to breathe and be happy, no one else deserves to! If our child can't be alive to laugh and play, no child shall! But then he was unable to even form a single thought that made sense and his mind and heart bled into nothing more than a swirling cauldron of the Dark Side. Then the room was spinning, then the five other people in the room, excluding the dead ones, they had been screaming in terror and pain, and he had…

---END OF FLASHBACK---

Oh, yes. That memory had done the trick well. Now, as Darth Vader looked upon Naboo as his transport ship landed on one of Theed palace's open hangars, he did not look upon it in awe, in wonder, or in pride in knowing he had once been able to call this beautiful planet his home.

Darth Vader knew no such thoughts.

TBC……….

Leif of Rohan - Yay! My first reviewer! Thank you for taking the time to leave a review, and thanks for the compliment. I love writing tense scenes between Vader and Sidious, and it's great to know you like that writing!

Jokerisdaking - Thank you for the very kind review! I already have the chapters of his interaction with them written, and I honestly have to say that they are my favorite part of this story. I hope that you'll enjoy them too!

TorontoBatFan - Wow, thank you for a long review! Oh, yes, Vader goes through and displays quite a lot of emotions when he's reunited with the Naberrie clan. It'll be interesting, I promise. I'm not too big on revealing plot details (spoilers), and if I revealed any upcoming characters I would be breaking my rule. But please stayed tuned to see who will be making appearances!

Snow Lepord - Thanks for the very nice comments. In fact, it was after I received your review that I got the motivation to get back to work on Chapter 2 and upload it. So, an extra "Thank You" for giving me the boost to get back on it!