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A Warm Breeze in the Snow Storm
By Rose-Arwen-Padmé
The Naberrie's
"Ah, good afternoon, Lord Vader. I hope your transport to the planet was comfortable."
"Fairly," Vader responded monotonously.
"Beautiful planet, My Lord. Have you ever ventured to Naboo before?"
"What seems to be the problem, Commander?" Vader asked, already feeling impatient.
"The Naberrie's refuse to move," Admiral Tyson replied, shuffling his feet, obviously on edge. "With the Emperor's implied interest in this family… we're hesitant to damage the goods, you might say."
A pause. "Leave it to me."
The next moment, Admiral Tyson was watching the retreating black form of Darth Vader as the Sith stomped up the steps leading into the Naberrie home.
Vader took a deep, abrupt breath before he passed through the doorway. The memory came without any warning or any regard for his sanity.
She smiled as she waited in the doorway, their baggage at her feet, when the front porch lights suddenly flicked off. She was thrown under the secret veil of darkness, but her brown eyes shone with their own ethereal light. Hmmm, the Force is at work tonight, she said silently to herself. As he approached, he wrapped his arms around her small frame, his fingers gliding over her smooth abdomen.
Her smile radiated as she raised her hands to intertwine with his around her middle. "I know these hands," she mused, as she began to caress his fingers.
"I know this body," he replied, keeping his voice low as his grin spread.
Mindful of the proximity of her parents somewhere inside the house, Padmé kept her voice quiet as she responded, "You know my body very well, Mr. Skywalker."
Anakin's slightly muffled reply brought an even wider smile to Padmé's face. "Be careful, sweetheart, there are young children around." He sounded bashful and even shy as he reprimanded her. But Padmé knew that he was really smiling. She took a deep breath of the black night's air.
"Speaking of children…" Padmé's voice drifted.
Anakin kissed her head of curls. "Yes?" He then rested his chin on top of her head, breathing in her scent as he stared out into the night, listening.
"You think maybe one day…" her voice drifted once more. Just before Anakin was about to prompt her to go on again, she quickly continued, "Nevermind. Come on, we have to catch our shuttle." She offered a smile as she gave his hands a final squeeze. "Coruscant awaits!"
She stepped away to lean down and grab her suitcase, but was suddenly spun around and pressed against her husband's chest. "Smooth, Ani," she whispered with a smile, before raising her hands to cup his face as they leaned in towards each other. They shared one last passionate kiss under the blanket of night, completely shaded from any questioning eyes peering out of surrounding houses that might have recognized a certain senator kissing a certain recognizable Clone Wars hero.
A little over a minute later, he was carrying her second bag and his only one down the steps, trailing dutifully after her. As they walked in the direction of the nearest Shuttle Depot, the Jedi flicked his fingers, and the brilliant light suddenly returned in the lamps around the Naberrie porch.
Broken glass lay scattered across the tile floor and a few chairs were tipped over, but other than that, and the dozen of Stormtroopers lining the halls, the sunshine lit up the indoors of the Naberrie home's dining room beautifully. It could have passed for an ordinary, normal day, except for the obvious irregularities this afternoon.
"Darth Vader," Ruwee Naberrie mumbled in surprise and fear, as the new addition to the scene raised his gloved, clenched hands to rest on his hips in an authoritative position. With his arms and chest stretched outward, his cape floating with a haunting grace behind him, and the deep breathing mechanism a constant companion, Darth Vader was the living image of fear and power.
The Naberrie's were enclosed in their own self-created hush as they stood in frightful awe of him. Both Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie had aged nicely. The wrinkles around her eyes complimented Jobal's face, and Ruwee had lost some weight in ten years. Sola hadn't changed much at all, though there were a few new wrinkles lines around her face. The stresses of motherhood had some obvious and wholesome effects on the still young wife. She was clinging to the arm of a man about her age who was standing in a protective stance next to her.
Two young brunette ladies stood on the opposite side of the room. They stood right next to each other, their hands tightly clasped in unison in between them. They each darted their focuses between each other and the other Naberrie's on the other side of the room.
The younger of the two girls, the one with wild, curly hair, sent a pleading look towards Darred Naberrie. "Dad?" she questioned.
Although Darred had not been there during Anakin's initial meeting with Padmé's family, the two had met and become good friends over the three years before Anakin Skywalker had transformed into Darth Vader. The two had been complete opposites, much like their wives were total contradictions. While Padmé had been strong, a leader who stood up for what she believed, Sola was content to sit on the sidelines and watch while occasionally cheering on the home team. Darred was also a timid person in that regard and they lived comfortably in their not-very-exciting lives. Padmé and Anakin's spirit had matched inch for inch when it came to a love of fervor and venture. While Sola saw life from a very moderate point of view, Padmé's exhumed passion and enthusiasm. Something as fiery in the spirit as that in a woman might scare off Darred, but it was one of the things Anakin had loved the most about his wife.
Darred stiffly turned towards the two young women, the look of a frightened, devoted father in his eyes. "Ryoo, Pooja, come over here."
While Ryoo had been six, Pooja Naberrie had been only a mere four years old when Anakin Skywalker had first seen the sisters, laughing and bounding down the Naberrie's steps to be the welcoming party to their aunt and her unknown, tall escort. The sound of their sweet laughter had rung in the ears of Padmé and Anakin, and their cheerful smiles had beamed in the warm sunshine.
Now, almost thirteen years since that day, Ryoo had grown into a lovely nineteen year-old woman. Her hair had been shoulder-length and as straight as a board the last time Skywalker had seen her, which had been at the last Festival of Lights before the end of the war. Her hair was now a rich brown, made up of ocean waves of a smooth texture that fell to her waist. She looked much like her father, though she certainly had her mother's, the Naberrie's, chin and brown eyes.
Although Anakin Skywalker had never admitted it to himself, much less to Padmé, it had been Pooja, the youngest niece, who had been Anakin's favorite. Her sometimes wildly curly hair, fiery spirit, and ability to somehow cast a magical spell across all those that encountered her had reminded him greatly of his Padmé. She now looked like a clone of her deceased aunt, with silky brown curls and deep brown eyes. She was truly beautiful, and Vader found it difficult to examine her for more than a couple of seconds. Her resemblance to Padmé was striking.
Not so many years ago, he had spent hours tumbling around with these girls on the back lawn, or giving them piggy-back rides, or sipping imaginary tea with them and their stuffed animals.
"No, Ani!" Pooja exclaimed in mock anger. Her bright smile showed her true delight. "You hold the tea cup like this!"
Anakin laughed at the little five year-old's insistence. "Like this?" he asked, holding up what he guessed to be the correct way for Pooja. In the Jedi Temple, young ones had been schooled in proper etiquette for numerous planets and systems, etc., so as to never offend any culture by way of their manners. The problem was, Pooja had a way to hold a cup of tea of her own—one that he was sure he had never seen at the Temple.
"No! You have to balance it on your knee facing this way!" She crossed her arms. "I've already told you this two million times before!"
Anakin's lips tightened into a small frown, but the merriment didn't leave his eyes. "Oh, no, Pooja— you sound like Master Obi-Wan."
"No, she doesn't," interjected Ryoo, who was sitting beside Anakin on his other side at the circular table in Padmé's room. "Pooy sounds like our mom."
"Ryoo! I told you not to call me Pooy! If you call me Pooy one more time, I'm gonna tell Mom, and she's gonna…"
Anakin couldn't focus on what Pooy—er, Pooja—was telling her sister about what their mother would do. Anakin's attention was on the pair of eyes he felt touching his back at that moment. His back was to the door of Padmé's bedroom, which had recently become Pooja's & Ryoo's tea room , and almost everyone in that household had brown eyes… but he knew exactly whose chocolate orbs were resting on him. And he could sense her beautiful smile as she watched the scene in front of her as she leaned against the doorframe.
He used the Force to see her standing there, light red dress draped around her, lying in a puddle around her feet, her brown locks up in a lazy half-up half-down assortment, and her arms crossed over her chest. He knew his wife well enough to know that her arms were not crossed because she was upset or cold, but rather because she often said that she sometimes crossed her arms over herself and imagined that it was him, her husband, hugging her whenever he couldn't do it himself.
He smiled hugely, and Ryoo paused for a brief time to give him a strange look before continuing the argument with her sibling. His grin was the product of the occurrence of a warm thought—the only reason why she was settling for an imaginary hug from him was because she didn't want him to get up and come over to her. She didn't want to disturb the cozy scene in front of her watchful eyes just because she wanted her husband's sturdy, strong, enveloping arms to catch her in an embrace and hold her tight.
She also thought she was skillfully spying on her husband.
He subtly shook his head in silent laughter. Sweetheart, you can't spy on a Jedi sitting five feet away from you who's in love with you, and who knows your presence like he knows the gold flicks in your eyes.
Evidently the argument had come to an end when the whinnying demands for piggy-back rides echoed in Anakin's ears. He only pretended to put up a mock fight for about five seconds, before both Ryoo and Pooja were suddenly securely latched onto his back. He took them round and round the bedroom, careful to both not run into anythin, and to not look towards the doorway, giving away the knowledge that he was aware of a figure standing there. The girls screamed with joy and delight as he playfully, and just as carefully, lifted the girls up into the air and then down upon the bed. He overwhelmed them with tickles, until he was 'overcome by their strength over him' and mercilessly tickled by the brunette partners-in-crime. In one swift motion though, he had them on their backs, and rapidly gave them each several raspberry blows on their bellies, which produced screams of merry laughter from their vocal cords and rang around the room.
It was Ryoo who finally noticed the slim figure trying to hide herself in the shadows of the doorway, and who was failing miserably in their attempt to hide the obvious appearance and sound of her giggles behind her hands. Upon seeing that she'd been discovered, Padmé let out one loud exclamation of giggles, and then told the girls that their father wanted to see them downstairs on the back lawn. With mild complaints, Ryoo and Pooja jumped off the bed and whizzed past their aunt, who didn't really notice. Padmé's eyes were glued on Anakin's as he drowned her in his pair of mystical blue pools. He laid back on the bed at a diagonal, his boots crossed and resting on the floor, his arms prepping his upper body up on their weight. He stared at her, and she stared back intensely.
"Darred didn't really ask for them, right?" Anakin asked, though in the tone of one who already knows the answer to their question. His low, gruff voice sent warm shivers down Padmé's back.
She nodded her head in confirmation of his question. "My parents and Sola went out to get some things from the market. Darred is working on his speeder in the backyard. However, both 3PO and R2 are downstairs in the dining room, and they should keep them occupied for quite some time." As she had whispered the second half of her statement in a low, sultry voice, she had shut the bedroom door behind her, leaning on it leisurely when it was fully closed.
With a gleam in his eyes, Anakin asked, "Who will occupy the other? Do you mean Ryoo and Pooja will take care of 3PO and R2?"
Padmé smiled lazily as she put the lock in place on the door. "How about you just worry about who is going to take care of you right now, alright?"
Anakin merely nodded his head as Padmé began to slowly walk towards him. Every step she took seemed to last an eternity, when actually she was standing directing in front of him within five seconds. To Anakin, that was five seconds too long.
A light smile graced her features as she began to caress his face with her smooth hands. She fondly remembered Anakin playing so enthusiastically with her nieces only a few minutes before.
"I love you," she whispered with all the sincerity in her heart.
Anakin smiled, as his love seemed to radiate out of every pore from his body. "I love you," the husband replied to the wife, before he leaned up to capture her mouth in a consuming kiss.
After Padmé had revealed the news of her pregnancy to him when he'd returned from the Outer Rim sieges, she often said that he would be an outstanding, remarkable father. He had looked forward to the day when he could prove her right.
However, that fiery dream of his dear wife and child had been stomped out the day Padmé died ten years ago of a broken heart.
Lord Vader found it very unusual that a nineteen year-old and a seventeen year-old would be at home. He knew that the usual age for young adults to begin attending college level academies was seventeen, which both of the ladies either had reached or had surpassed. Knowing that education was a very big part of the Naberrie home and fundamentals—Ruwee Naberrie himself had been a renowned professor at Theed University for some time—he couldn't help but wonder why Ryoo and Pooja were there. He neglected to ask himself why he cared so much about the fate of a family that he should be regarding as any other family under his occupation and control.
Gruffly, he asked the two young women, "Why are you here?"
His frustration grew as he only received blank stares in return.
"Ryoo! Pooja!" he indicated. "I asked why you are here. Shouldn't you be in a university by now?"
Ryoo's confusion prompted her to quickly ask without thinking, "How would you know how old we are? And how do you know our names?"
Darth Vader abruptly marched towards her, broken glass from the tableware breaking and cracking loudly underneath his heavy black boots. He stopped only about a foot away from her, letting his height impose intimidation upon her. Well, she did have to strain her neck up in order to look at him—which she soon decided was a bad idea, so she swiftly bowed her head in timidness and stared at the floor.
The only sound was his mechanical breathing for many seconds. Inhale… Exhale… In hale… "I made it my business to know, young one. That is all you need to worry about." He leaned forward, until the black skull-like mask was inches away from hers. His loud voice echoed in her ears so loudly they hurt as he warned, "And I ask the questions!"
Not a beat of time passed in between the moment when Vader finished his statement and the moment when he turned and proceeded to the place where he was standing before Ryoo's comment.
He resumed as if nothing had happened. "Why are these two people here, instead of at school?"
Again he didn't ask himself why he wanted to know so much. He ignored the thought that maybe he desperately wanted to know about the only real family he had had besides his mother. He rejected the idea that he wanted to feel caught up on the past ten years of the lives of the people who had accepted him with open arms, cared for him, loved him, and never judged him.
"It's the Festival of Lights," Darred said, after swallowing nervously. "Or, well, it was. The girls have a two-day vacation from Theed University. They chose to come home to celebrate the festivities with us. It's the first time the girls have managed to come home in weeks… so we are all joining together here, at their grandparents house."
If the family was waiting for an acknowledgement that Lord Vader had received this information, they never got it. He didn't nod, didn't mumble or say anything—he only continued to stare at them from the black abyss of his eye lenses.
Vader wouldn't acknowledge the… regret?... he felt as he looked upon the two young ladies, who were practically hiding behind their mother and father. As if their stiffness and morbid silence weren't sufficient evidence, Vader knew the look of fear in their eyes well enough to know that they were absolutely petrified of him. He was this black, large, and ominous figure that had sucked all of the warmth out of their once cozy home.
In normal situations, he would hungrily feed off of the fear emanating from those that felt terror around him. It was the exlair of his life— the never-failing drink that satisfied upon demand. He was sucking up the fear from Sola, Darred, and Ruwee greedily, but theirs was the only ones he could obtain. Jobal Naberrie was too much like her youngest daughter—what fear he was sensing from her, and its supply defiantly left something to be desired, was too familiar and reminded him too much of a certain young woman related in the closest way to Mrs. Naberrie. The anxiety tinged with humble pride, devotion to those important to her, brown hair gleaming, doe eyes shining with a mastery of wisdom, an almost defiant upward tilt of her perfectly shaped chin…
…Padmé, he silently moaned…
… it was far too familiar to draw from.
But, if possible, the children seemed even worse. The sisters' fear was too pure, too uncomplicated. Their souls were endless wells of innocence. Ironically, this was usually the sweetest nectar for Vader—the unadulterated fear— but now, no matter how hard he tried, he felt an emotional pain from harming these young angels, these girls who could pass as slightly modified clones of Padmé. This realization even caused his feast of Ruwee, Darred, and Sola's fear to sour.
Disgusted with himself, he turned to leave this haven of everything he stood against. Resuming his suddenly very frequent habit, he cursed the Emperor for sending him to this planet. He cursed Naboo for bringing back memories that he didn't want. He cursed this elegant house that was full of memories. He cursed the elder Naberrie's for being Padmé's family. However, though he vainly tried to, he couldn't bring himself to curse the young sisters.
He was ready to hear the swish of his cloak as he walked out the front door, never to return.
Then she whispered it.
"Oh, Mom…thank goodness Auntie was able to get out of here just in time… you know how much she despises troopers."
He stopped abruptly, grasping for the banister by the steps near the front porch to avoid collapsing. The world was spinning in front of his black lenses.
He certainly knew the Naberrie family well enough to know that Ryoo and Pooja Naberrie only had one aunt. Their father Darred had been an only child, and Jobal and Ruwee had only had two daughters. The young ladies' only aunt ever was Padmé Naberrie.
No. NO. It couldn't be true. He wouldn't let it be true. He was too accustomed to the familiarity that had become his life for it to suddenly be thrown upside down because of a few words spoken by a naïve teenager from another lifetime. The most cynical part of him, which was the majority of his spirit, laughed mockingly at the part of him that wondered if the sound of Ryoo's words had merely been just a figment of his imagination.
But all of his doubts were dashed into the gutter when he heard a large slap, followed by an indignant muffled mumble—he spun around, leaned, and darted his head to look into the room. Sola had suddenly slapped her hand over her oldest daughter's mouth, and Ryoo was definitely not pleased, as evident by her brief complaining. It was enough to convince Vader that he hadn't imagined a thing.
Padmé's own family had just revealed the truth to him. His long lost wife… was alive.
Her smile flashed before his eyes. He could hear her beautifully humming a melody in his ears. Memories from the past swarmed him until he thought that his artificial legs would give way beneath him. Then he heard the sound of his own sobs, produced in the following nights after his massacre at the Theed palace ten years ago His gut-wrenching moans had echoed throughout his lonesome chambers as he'd sat in a corner, Sith garments and all, mourning his spouse with a broken heart that flooded his eyes. He remembered the searing pain that had scorched his heart whenever he had so much as seen a woman with brown hair and brown eyes, or whenever he saw a woman and young child happy together. He remembered despising being around happy families. They only reminded him of what he had had once, but then lost forever.
He slowly turned and took a shaky step forward into the house. Jobal slowly closed her eyes and dropped her head with the realization that Vader had heard, and now knew. After dodging skilled bounty hunters, the Empire's agents, Sith Lords, and other ruthless dignitaries for ten years…. Padmé Amidala had been betrayed by her own family.
It was the same Padmé Amidala whose heart was beating at a calm pace as she looked out over the water behind her serene home, at that exact same moment, while Darth Vader faced her family, his heart pounding like thunder in a summer storm.
TBC…
J.E.A.R.K.Potter - Thank you for your comments! It's great to hear from you again!
scooter5710 - Yay! I'm glad you think so!
eridani - It's a pleasure to read your remarks, as always. I love that you loved that line:-) I'm a nut when it comes to characterization-- I'm so pleased that you picked up on that detail!
ThePrincess04 - It's SOOO good to hear from you again! I'm so happy that you like this story. LOL, you'll find that the updates on this one will be MUCH closer together than the updates on The Same Woman!
BGTom - Hmmm, you sensed correctly. The force is with you, it seems. ;-)
Padfoot Reincarnated - Thank you very much! Your words are very kind and generous-- thank you!
orliNkeira - My goodness! Thank you for such a long review! Alas, I know exactly what you mean. :-) Believe me, if I could write every SW story with him without the suit, I would. However, that wouldn't be true to his character. I think the suit adds demensions to who he is and how he acts. Oh, sorry, I'm babbling! I was very flattered by your comments. I love knowing what lines you specifically like, because I guess it makes me like them more, too! Thank you for your review!
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Thank you to everyone once again for such wonderful reviews!