Vader's Angel
By: wertman25
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Star Wars…. Or Anakin Skywalker… Which is a pity…
Chapter 4: Black Knight In Shining Armor
Night had fallen over the city of Coruscant, but regardless of the darkness or time, the city did not sleep. It was the one place in the galaxy that never rested, and tonight the city was more alive than ever, the flashing lights and blaring music booming into the air, begging for everyone to join in on the fun. Hundreds of ships flew through the city-lit sky like racing shooting stars, while people of all races and species bustled along on the ground below. It was impossible to be noticed– Well, almost impossible.
The streets were bustling with people, completely crowded, herds including every individual of every species bustling both up and down the streets of the capital. In such a large crowd Padmé and Dormé's presence should not have held much significance, but anyone with two working eyes could see that they did not belong there. The two women looked too clean, too proper, too rich or mostly too perfect to be a part of the usual Coruscant night scene. In contrast to the people that walked around them, the women were truly angels among men– not that anyone or any man would complain. The two women were invariably dressed to kill, attraction and teasing on their minds. Dormé wore a sexy, red dress that clung to her body in all the right places, while Padmé's dress was even sexier. Her knee length, little black dress fit her body like a second skin, amplifying every inch of her tiny frame.
It was truly the perfect dress for seduction– if it wasn't hidden under a cloak that Padmé had snuck on before leaving her apartment. She had hoped that snuck-on garment would help her to preserve some modesty, but unfortunately could tell from the eyes that lingered on her body that the cloak hardly helped her worth cause at all. Padmé hated that she felt like nothing more than a piece of meat under the hungry eyes of starving wolves. To them, she was nothing more than a companion who could give them a night of pleasure. This scene was not one that she would condone for anyone and unlike her usual events, was obviously not the place to find an attractive, protective, and loving man who was ready to settle down.
So why am I going again?
She didn't know what had possessed her to agree to such an idiotic idea. She could argue and say that it was because her best friend had a plan, but in truth it wasn't Dormé's first time having a "Perfect Plan." Padmé knew how her friend's usual plans turned out and just hoped this time it would end in her favor. It seemed like Dormé was taking everything seriously, planning out the night and leaving the plans with security. The woman had guaranteed Padmé 's security of her well-being and had promised that no harm would come to her. Unlike her team, Padmé was completely clueless when it came to what her best friend had planned. She had voiced her concerns before but Dormé reminded her that that she needed tonight, that she needed to forget about being a senator and all the responsibilities that came with it and just be a woman, a young sexy woman.
It was just one night. Didn't she deserve one night of fun, of recklessness? Of letting loose and just having fun? Of doing something for herself and no one else? Dormé reminded Padmé that tonight she wouldn't have to worry about being labeled as a child, looking presentable, or any of the drama happening in the galaxy. Padmé could just have a normal night of being a twenty-one year old woman. This was her break; this was her reset.
"Ta-da!" Dormé exclaimed, throwing her hands up to the sign that was glowing above their heads.
Padmé stiffened almost instantaneously, reading the sign above her head with wide eyes. "A nightclub?" she asked, shocked and completely confused. "Why would you take us to a nightclub?"
Dormé frowned at Padmé's lack of excitement, pulling down her hands disappointedly. "Come on," she complained. "I thought this was my best idea yet!"
"A nightclub?" Padmé repeated in disbelief, secretly wondering if her friend knew her at all.
A look of frustration passed across Dormé's face as her eyes became angry. "Where the hell else did you think we were going dressed up like this?" Dormé snapped, gesturing to their revealing dresses. "The Jedi Temple?"
Padmé could only shrug. It did make sense, if she would have thought about it. When they were back at her apartment, she did have her doubts about dressing like complete hooker, but she couldn't deny that it felt good: showing off her body, dressing to kill, and making men drool over her for all the wrong reasons. It made her feel like a woman which was something that politics sometimes made her forget. This was supposed to be a night to be young and embrace her sexuality; her notions of propriety would have to take a back seat tonight.
"Let's just get in line," Dormé said quickly, not waiting for Padmé as she pushed her into the line of people. "You aren't Senator Amidala tonight, you're just Padmé."
Just Padmé.
It was a strange statement, one that made her feel worried and relieved at the same time. It had been a long time since she had been, just Padmé, a very, very long time. Honestly, she didn't even know if she knew who, just Padmé, was anymore. She had held the title of Queen and Senator Amidala for so long that she couldn't remember just who the real Padmé Naberrie was.
"You're just Padmé." Dormé repeated softly, finally causing a large smile to appear on Padmé's features.
Just Padmé.
Padmé didn't know who just Padmé Naberrie was anymore, but tonight might be her night to remember– be her night to be away from Padmé Amidala– to be free of her mistakes. A night at the club might actually be what she needed, a night to embrace her beauty, her womanhood, and her youth. She always followed the rules and did what was expected of her, but she was only twenty-one years old and it would not kill her for one night to act like it.
I can do this, Padmé told herself. I can do this... I hope.
Padmé and Dormé were pulled to the front of the line by a Bothan bouncer mere seconds after that, the club having a well-known reputation of allowing wealthy personnel and attractive females in very fast due to both factors being a major benefactor in increasing their profit. It was a smart move financially, one that the two women were happy to take advantage of as the large man allowed them to pass. It seemed liked their night was off to a great start, but only because they had no idea that they were being watched.
Darth Vader looked on from the darkness of a street corner, staying in the shadows as he watched the girls enter the club. He growled as they did, his irritation becoming uncontrollable. Vader believed that this new mission was not only a complete and utter waste of his time, but was also beyond insulting. Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, one of the most powerful beings to ever live using his skills to stalk some petty females– How belittling. Obviously, Vader didn't care for his master's asinine plans, the old man becoming even more demented with age. There were far much more important things the Sith could be doing with his time. He had battles to plan and rebels to track. He did not have time to watch a silly girl try to find her sexuality. The two women had already taken too much time at the senator's apartment and now they had begun to grate on his nerves. Time was being wasted. Surveying and investigating wasted precious time. It had been years since Vader had dealt with people like this instead of just taking what he wanted and killing them. Killing them was more sensible. It saved time and rid the universe of pointless idiots. Idiots like… Rush Clovis.
The very thought of the man made Vader's blood boil. Clovis was such a fool, and even worse– he was near. Vader could feel him, sense him, and hear his disgusting thoughts. Reaching out with the Force, his attention was suddenly drawn to a man who was flashing his wealth to a bouncer at the club's door, paying his way in so he didn't have to stay in line. The man smiled as the guard allowed him to pass, his thoughts focused on the many women around him as well as the one senator he was chasing who was just inside. Vader knew that the man was Clovis immediately and it frustrated him that he could hear his thoughts so perfectly– just like he had allowed before.
The imbecile thinks he is clever, Vader thought highly annoyed, trying to ignore the man's perverted and self-glorified thoughts that were screaming within his head.
It surprised Vader that no one else seemed to notice that Clovis was following the two women, the man hardly being conspicuous. It seemed so obvious, but then again, Vader was more in tuned to everything going on around him than the usual citizen. He was a Sith Lord, a powerful and deadly monster that was trained to use such methods. To him, the lowly lives that filled the galaxy were nothing but insects; they were insignificant compared to him and his power.
Clovis smiled and nodded to a few women as he walked through the door, licking his lips and winking his eye, acting as though he was a treat for them to devour with their eyes.
He's nothing but a low life form, Vader growled to himself, his nerves being pushed to their limits once more. He's not even worth the ground he walks on. I will enjoy killing him.
Rush Clovis was the only man who had survived Vader's wrath and they both knew it. Clovis practically wore the fact as a title. The stupid man believed that he was now invincible; that he alone could stand against the Sith Lord– that the Sith Lord was afraid of him. It was all lies and in the future, Vader planned on setting that record straight. Soon, Rush Clovis would be dead by the hands of the Dark Lord himself, unable to escape death any further. Vader would have killed him instantly at the ridiculous party if his master had not had him on such a tight leash. For some reason, the Emperor wanted Rush Clovis alive and Vader would have to do his master's binding– for the time being.
Turning his thoughts back to the ridiculous, but still top-priority mission, Vader lingered in the darkness as he waited for the two women and Clovis to disappear from his eyes, but not his true sight. He allowed them to immerse themselves into the crowd before he followed. It was far too easy for Vader to enter the club without being noticed and for a moment, he actually missed the top-secret security Rebel Alliance bases where he actually had to try. For once, he had to give the scum credit. The rebels would have noticed the uneasy feelings that washed over them or the way the temperature dropped when he entered the room. Now, Death himself had entered the club, but none of the fools inside seemed to notice.
Once totally inside, Vader blended himself into the darkness of the room, silently watching the senator sip her drink at a small table on the far side of the dance floor. Unlike her friend, the senator sat tall and stiff, looking like an invasive species to the low-dwellers around her. Her thoughts reeked with her desire to blend in, but she was oblivious to how she did anything but that. Not only did her professionalism and strong body language from obvious– at least to Vader– years within politics disclose her secret, but her physical appearance did anything but turn away the eyes of hungry men. From the thoughts of the other's in the room– men and female alike– she had taken nearly everyone's attention from the moment she had entered the club, their minds filling with ideas of having her or being her. Still, Clovis's mind screamed out above the rest, watching the senator from a place at the bar as he flirted and bought other women drinks waiting for his precise opportunity to pounce. It was a situation that seemed too dramatic– childly dramatic, almost making Vader groan. His only saving grace was finding some pleasure within the situation, his coming in the form of the young senator. Even from across the room, he could sense the her high amount of discomfort and her lack of interest in being at the nightclub, causing a wave of pleasure to move throughout his body.
Good, he thought slightly amused. At least we will both suffer through this dreadful night.
For Padmé, the time passed at an alarming and antagonizing slow rate, the clock showing that it had just reached midnight but her mind feeling as if she had been stuck within the club for years. She had promised her best friend that she would try to act her age, but as usual when it came to that task, she had failed. It seemed that no matter what she tried she always seemed to fail recently and the fact sat sickly within her stomach mixed with dirty air and repulsive beverages. In truth, she had given it her best shot, joining her friend as they both shed their robes, drinking and dancing the night away. She had forced a few shots of the hard liquor down for Dormé's sake but could now feel the substance rolling within her belly. When it came to alcohol Padmé usually didn't drink much, sparing a glass or two at high-class events, sticking to the most classic and finest of Naboo wines– nothing nor to any amount like the drinks that were being served here that were too strong for Padmé's stomach to digest. The drinks were almost water to Dormé, the woman having always been the drinker within their friendship and because of it, she was now the only one intoxicated while Padmé watched on very much sick, but sober– mostly.
"Do you think it's cold?" Padmé asked, rubbing her goose-bumped flared arms as a cold feeling came over her again and a sort of electricity ran through her veins.
Her friend simply rolled her eyes at the statement, having been the second or third time Padmé had repeated it since arriving. "D–Don't you ruin this for me–us," she replied, slurring slightly as a man– possibly named Jack... or maybe John– took her hand to lead her back to the dance floor. "We are having fun!"
Whatever little enjoyment Padmé had entered the club with had since evaporated, the young senator not only sick but also stuck within the same booth that she had been in for over an hour as her best friend continued to grind on the dance floor with men she hardly knew. It was irritating... but also envious. Padmé envied Dormé for being able to let go and have fun. She envied her for being able to act her age and enjoy life. Dormé had always been more of the free spirit while Padmé had picked a more respectable way to conduct her life. It seemed like a reasonable decision– a smart decision, but recently it seemed as if the cards were stacked in Dormé's favor instead of the other way around. Not only was Dormé succeeding at life, but she was having fun while doing so.
Dormé was no virgin, Padmé was. Dormé was able to let go of responsibility, Padmé couldn't. Dormé knew the ways of men, Padmé didn't. Unlike her best friend, Padmé was a fish out of water when it came to things such as tonight, things like clubs and casual sex. She only knew of love and marriage, old fashioned romance– her perfect love story. She wasn't blind to the opposite sex, already having a few boyfriends but never anything too serious. It wasn't anything like this: lust filled interactions with no feelings or respect for the other. In fact, Padmé had left the dance floor by the time the second man had whispered his thoughts and intentions into her ear. The crudeness! She had almost been insulted that a man would say such things to a lady, but that seemed to be the normal type of man these days... or that is what Dormé had told her. Her friend always commented on her standards being too high, wanting a type of man that didn't exist– a love that didn't exist. Still, she hoped. She didn't need a man, but she craved one– craved the feeling of being wanted, of not feeling alone, of having a partner. She had always hoped to have a husband of her own by now and although it would make her no more of a woman, she wanted someone that didn't look at her as a child. She knew that if she wanted to be treated like a queen then she needed to go somewhere else, that this was definitely not the place for that. She had the galaxy waiting, but she just hoped her friend was wrong and her extraordinary story was waiting to be written.
You're a senator, a clearer voice echoed from within her mind, her senses foggy and revealing she was much more intoxicated than she previously believed. Don't be so childish.
Grabbing Dormé's small glass that on the other end of the table, Padmé threw the liquid down her throat, hissing at the burn it cause before she slammed her glass against the table. There that would was again: childish. And what's worse? The voice spoke of the truth. Why couldn't she just stop dreaming? Why did she still have to be such a child? Thinking that Prince Charming would just come to her, save her perhaps? Just when all hopes were lost he would come in saving the day. She imagined her Prince Charming having blonde hair, blue eyes, and taunt muscles. He would be the image of a perfect man and he would–
"Are you trying to imply something?"
Padmé blinked coming out of her thoughts, the voice startling her and making her realize that somehow during her imagines of her Prince Charming a young black haired male had wondered over to her table.
"Excuse me?" Padmé asked with a small frown, confused by his question.
"Your glass," he said pointing to the object in her hand as he pressed against the table. "Are you implying something?"
Padmé looked back and forth between the man and her glass. "Like what?" she asked still confused.
The man shrugged before rising away from the table, only to move closer to her side. "The way you slammed down that glass implies you need a slam yourself," he remarked giving her a devilish smile. "I am a more than willing volunteer."
As if being stung Padmé immediately pulled away from the young man, taken back by his words. She turned towards the table trying to ignore him and give him the obvious hint that she wasn't interested. "I think you should leave," she breathed with her eyes locked to the table. "Now."
"Leave?" he smiled, eyeing her hungrily as he proceeded his advancement. "I don't think so. I just got here."
Padmé's skin began to crawl as she felt the dark-haired man's eyes burning into her, his presence moving ever so closer to her with each passing second. Taking a deep breath she reclaimed herself, trying to find a more sober and strong place as she turned back to the man. "I'm flattered really," Padmé lied with a small smile. "But I'm not looking for a relationship."
The man let out a roar of a laugh that made Padmé's body shiver, something about her comment truly amusing as a dark smile graced his features before he moved closer. "Oh sweetie, don't flatter yourself."
"Excuse me?" Padmé responded confused, pushing even farther back into the booth.
"Baby, you're a hot piece of ass. Probably the hottest I've ever seen in this dump," he said in a low domineering voice. "But I'm not looking for a relationship, so don't flatter yourself. I just have a need," he continued, motioning with both hands towards her. "One that I happen to know that luscious body of yours can fill it. I need a quick fuck and I need it now."
Even through her small haze, Padmé knew the terrible place she was in. She watched as his tongue glazed over his lips and his eyes began to roam over her body like an animal inspecting his prey. Quickly, she tried to make an escape, but as she did his arms grabbed onto her, pulling her into him with her back to his chest. His arms crisscrossed her chest holding her tightly against him as he tried to feel her body beneath her clothing. His mouth was so close to her ear that she could feel the heat that was radiating from it as well as the pronounced smell of alcohol on his breath.
He shook his head discouraged, scolding her like a disobedient child. "It's not going to be that easy," he snickered almost licking her ear. "I never leave without getting what I want."
She pulled against his arms for a moment but found them locked too tightly to budge. For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to do and the haze within her mind kept her from thinking clearly. The only thought that came into her mind was to scream, but as she opened her mouth to signal anyone near her to her distress, a voice stopped her before she could sound.
"I guess you're going to be disappointed today," a voice said followed by a harsh pull from behind Padmé, someone grabbing the man and freeing her from his prison of arms. "Get off of her!"
"Who the hell are you?" the black-haired man asked angrily, stumbling back as Padmé turned to join the conversation, her eyes meeting those of Rush Clovis.
Rush said nothing as he pulled Padmé into his grasp, her unable to do anything but stumble into his side as his arm weaved around her. With great care he helped her back into her seat, turning and moving around the table without looking at the other man. In one motion, he swiftly sat next to Padmé, putting his arm around her shoulders before finally looking back to the offender.
"This is my girlfriend," Rush snapped. "And I believe you were leaving."
A look of disbelief passed over the eye's of the black-haired man, but he released an irritated groan before turning to stalk away. It was a pleasant scene, but as soon as he was out of sight Padmé removed Rush's hand from her shoulder and politely moved away... his grip being uncomfortably tight.
"Thanks," she said simply, hoping he wouldn't stay to talk... but of course he did.
"Thanks? I think I deserve more than that. You're lucky I was here," he boasted sipping the drink in his hand. "In fact, a pretty thing like you shouldn't be out all alone," he whispered trying to move closer, impure thoughts obviously on his mind.
Padmé again moved away, looking the man in the eyes. "I'm not alone. I'm with my friend." Padmé corrected, pointing to the woman on the dance floor that was now grinding with two men– Ah, Jack and John.
"Yes," Rush nodded unamused. "So you are." He gazed at Dormé for a long moment, a small frown on his features before he turned his head to look at Padmé with a sudden cocky smile plastered across his face. "But you're alone right now."
Yes..." Padmé agreed becoming very uncomfortable, her mind swirling with the memory that had just occurred.
"So this could be our date?"
That was the last thing she was expected to come out of his mouth. Expecting another form of advancement or dirty complement, but never a date "Our what?" she asked in shock, not even attempting to hide her irritation.
"Our date," he repeated calmly but with a hidden anger within his voice. "Remember? Since you saved my life from that creature."
"You mean, Lord Vader?" she asked, giving the man her full attention.
"Yeah. Him," he responded quickly, hoping to blow off the subject... but Padmé wasn't about to let that happen.
Her interest was suddenly spiked upon the mention of the Sith, her curiosity reemerging, and just like that, the man before her becoming somewhat useful. "Well, you better watch yourself. I can't save you from Darth Vader every time you get in trouble with him," Padmé replied in an attempt to keep the subject of Darth Vader going. "I don't need my head in his hands."
"Please," Rush responded angrily, and Padmé knew with pride that she had pressed the right button within him. "I can take that old piece of shit any day, anywhere."
"Really?" Padmé asked, raising an eyebrow before taking a sip of her wine. "It didn't look like that to me."
He frowned. "And what exactly did it look like to you?"
"Like you got your ass kicked," Padmé replied, surprising herself. It wasn't her typical response but it felt good.
"Well, yeah." Rush said leaning back into the booth trying to play her statement off as he put his arms behind his head nonchalantly. "Anyone would. It's impossible to beat a machine, but that doesn't make me scared of him."
The single word caught Padmé's attention, making her suddenly interested. "A machine?" she repeated with utter amazement. "You think Vader is a machine?"
Rush nodded as he took another sip of his wine. He was hoping that his silence would show his lack of interest in the direction the conversation had taken. Padmé noticed but decided to press on. She needed answers. For some reason, she had taken a… curiosity towards the mysterious Dark Lord. It was something that she couldn't explain... It was an odd feeling, but she wanted to know everything about him and she was not going to rest until she figured out his secrets.
Pretending to be interested, Padmé used her liquid courage to slid towards Rush giving him an extremely sexy look, knowing how to play her cards right. "So what else do you know about Lord Vader?" she asked, weaving her hand around his arm as she fluttered her eyelashes seductively.
Rush smiled, unaware he was being played. "I don't want to talk about him," he stated, moving closer to the beautiful woman on his arm. "I just want to talk about us."
"Maybe on our next date," Padmé shook her head, "but for now, I want to talk about…" she sighed, looking around the room as if being watched. "Darth Vader."
He pulled back instantly as if being stocked. "Why are you so interested in him?" Rush exploded, annoyed at hearing the Sith's name. "Do you fancy him or something?"
"What? No!" Padmé yelled before she could regain her composure. Thankfully, the music in the club was too loud for anyone to notice her outburst. "I'm just curious about why you would pick a fight with the most dangerous man in the universe?"
Rush's eyes grew angry for a second before he released a laugh. "He is nothing but a slave. He won't kill me."
The room around them dropped in large degrees causing Padmé to shiver. "You don't think so?"
"He hasn't killed me the two times we've met before," Rush pointed out with a smile. "He's just afraid of me," he continued boasting with an even larger grin. "If he killed me, all hell would rain down."
Padmé rolled her eyes, sick of his boasting and unable to play the part of being attracted to such an idiotic man. "You're a fool," she stated as she pushed herself away from his arm. "An idiot, really."
"Excuse me?" he asked bewildered by her sudden insult, trying and failing to move towards her.
"You're a fool," Padmé repeated standing up, trying her best to look strong and stay stable despite the rush of air she felt from the sudden change in altitude. "The only reason you're alive is because for some reason Vader needs you alive, if he didn't, you'd be dead. Simple as that."
Rush's face grew hot with anger from Padmé's statement. "You have an inside connection to Vader that I don't know about?" he snapped angrily. "Because it sure sounds like it."
"I'm just not a fool," Padmé retorted before turning and walking away from the table, making her dramatic exit as she felt his eyes on her.
She planned on just moving to another part of the club to be just out of his sight but found herself unable to pause. She wasn't sure where she was walking to, but as she walked she just knew she had to get away. She felt truly stupid knowing that she had felt eyes on her all night but had fought the feeling by playing it off as her nerves. She should have known that Rush Clovis had followed her and Dormé to the nightclub. She should have suspected it was his eyes that she had felt on her. Rush had been watching her and waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. That nerf herder!
Subconsciously, she must have needed air because she found herself alone sometime later, standing just outside the door near the back exit of the nightclub. She closed her eyes, breathing in the sticky air of Coruscant in the dark alley. The cold air rushed into her lungs like blaster fire, making her feel nearly twelve times sick as it kicked at her stomach. It was an unpleasant feeling, but was one that at least brought her some clarity. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know why she had thought this would help. To go act her age and to not feel like a child? Nearly all twenty one year olds were still children and when had she ever acted her age? Never.
She let out a small groan as her hand came to rest upon her stomach, her legs shivering and her mind blackening once more. Stupid. I need to go home, she decided rationally, promising herself to leave after she had regained her strength. It wasn't long after that however, that Padmé heard footsteps of someone who must have followed behind her, the steps coming and pausing just outside the door with the owner's eyes on her back.
Rush, she thought, drawing a quick conclusion. He must have followed.
"Can't you take a hint?" Padmé growled as she turned around to face Rush, about to give him a speech of a lifetime before the words died upon her lips. She gasped when she realized it was not Rush Clovis but the black-haired man who was now standing just outside the exit of the nightclub, wearing an evil grin and cold eyes that screamed of his shameless intentions.
"Alone at last," he smiled, pushing the door completely shut behind him. "We don't want to be interrupted," he mused flashing an evil grin.
The door locked loudly notifying Padmé that she could not exit. The first thought than ran through her mind was to attack. She was a skilled fighter but had a better track record when she was armed... and unfortunately she saw no blaster in sight. Her mind told her that it didn't matter that she could still take a stance, but her mind and body were still too filled with booze to work in sync. She attempted to take a strong stance but was unable to do so, her head beginning to spin and her legs turning to mush. The high hells that she wore restricted any good kicks and the tight dress she wore constricted her movement. Quickly, looking for another solution she looked for a way out but couldn't see any that were close. She was surrounded by the darkness of the alley, the only exit being one opening at the far end of the alley that was many buildings down… but could she make it?
The man pulled off his robe and threw it to the ground, getting ready for what was about to occur. He started to advance upon her like a hungry wolf ready to take his prey. Padmé tried to run but was swiftly grabbed by strong arms that restrained her against the cold metal of the wall. He pressed his mouth against her neck, kissing her roughly, his teeth biting at her flesh. She squirmed underneath his grip, breaking one hand free to deliver a punch to his face. It didn't do as much damage as Padmé had hoped, it only stopping him for a few seconds, more out of surprise than pain. Soon after, he slapped her across the face and pinned her down again before returning to her neck. She let out a scream for help, but it was not heard over the traffic and music of the club. Regardless, it did not last long. His hand quickly clamped over her mouth to silence her as his body pressed against her to accommodate for his loss of a hand to hold her down.
Fear rose in her belly and she cursed herself for being so foolish. Tears started to stream down Padmé's face as his lips met hers, where saliva mixed with salty tears. There was no love in the kiss, only greed. She tasted it. He did not know her nor did he love her. He just wanted what she had. He wanted her body. He wanted her virginity. She was nothing more than a tool that could give him pleasure.
He released a moan against her lips, his body pressing harder against hers as he used his knee to separate her legs. His hands grabbed onto the black fabric of her dress and without even a flinch, he pulled it apart. The fabric tore to her underwear line revealing the upper half of her body. Padmé closed her eyes tightly not wanting to see what was about to happen to her, too ashamed to watch what was about to occur. This was not the way she had planned to lose her virginity. This was not the way she wanted her first time to be. This was not something she ever planned would happen to her.
She felt his hands move ravenously over her body, touching the fabric that hid her breasts, the only remaining part of her upper body that was not exposed. He grabbed onto them and squeezed them as if to mold them to his will. Then, she felt him grow. The length of him pressed on her stomach. She held her breath, not sure what else to do. She hoped for a miracle, and then, just as he was about to reveal in what was his promise-land, he stopped. Padmé opened her eyes when she heard him gasp for air, the sight shocking her. The man was still in front of her but instead of his hands being on her, they were at his throat as if someone was choking him. It was a strange and confusing scene, but one that eventually clicked within her intoxicated mind, Padmé's eyes widening as she realized what that meant: an invisible hand choking a man could only be one thing...
"Senator," Darth Vader's voice boomed. "Move."
Padmé looked around the black-haired man to see Darth Vader standing in the shadows. His dark and hooded figure was hidden in darkness except for his out stretched gloved hand. Without thinking about her half naked body Padmé quickly scrambled from underneath the choking man and stumbled towards her savior. It was by far the most inelegant run she had ever accomplished, but as soon as she fell by Lord Vader's side, he dropped his outstretched hand resulting in a series of coughs that resonated from his prey.
"Are you harmed?" Vader asked her without removing his hidden gaze from the black-haired man.
Padmé managed to give him a slight shake of her head, not sure if he could even see the gesture, though she was sure it didn't matter. She could tell by his tone that he did not care about her well-being. It was simply just a question that he already knew the answer to.
"Good," Vader replied uncaring before he raised his hand and the black-haired man's robe that had been discarded onto the ground flew into his grasp. Without glancing towards her, he tossed her the large piece of clothing. "Put this on," he commanded.
Still within a delicate state, for a moment Padmé frowned at the garment, confused of why he would make such an odd request. That was, until she noticed her indecency. Embarrassment washed over her faster than she ever thought possible, but again she noticed how Vader didn't seem to care. He didn't draw attention to the subject, nearly addressed it silently. He had noticed her lack of clothing, but did not seem to dwell on it like a normal man. He had hardly even looked at her and even through her embarrassment, something swelled within her belly.
"Thank you," she stammered as she pulled the cloak over her half naked body, pulling it closed across her chest to hide her risqué new wardrobe.
The Sith did not respond. He just stood in silence, staring at the coughing man that had yet to respond to the situation. Padmé stood in the same silence but her eyes were not on her almost rapist... they were on Vader. For the moment, it no longer mattered what the other man had done to her, her attention and thoughts only concerning the Dark Lord. What was the Sith about to do? She had heard of Vader's sick, terrible, and twisted ways but she had yet to see the full potential of his wrath herself. She had only personally seen Vader get in a single confrontation with one man, Rush Clovis, and despite Darth Vader's reputation, Rush was still alive. So the question on her mind was: Would Vader let this man live as well?
It was a question that hardly lasted within her mind as she she quickly got her answer, because without warning Vader made his next move. Effortlessly, he lifted the man with the Force, his invisible grip tightening around the young man's throat as terror filled the man's eyes. The Sith neared him with one giant step, forcing the man to look into the eyes of Death himself.
"P… Pl…Please," the man begged as the life began to leave his body. It was obvious that he couldn't breathe– that he couldn't move, Vader being the stronger opponent. The only thing the man could do was claw desperately at the invisible grip surrounding his throat, trying to keep his eyes away from his murderer and hope for a miracle.
It was an enjoyable sight to Vader, that much was clear. "I will take your life without a second thought," he whispered darkly, but also with undoubted amusement within his voice. "Just as you would have taken the young girl's virginity."
Upon his words, Padmé's head snapped towards the Sith, taken back by Vader's announcement. She wasn't sure if it was due to the alcohol or the trauma, but a mix of anger and embarrassment raged inside of her and she could feel her face becoming hot. She turned her face away from both men, but surprisingly, mostly away from Vader. In that moment, it didn't matter that the black-haired man had striped her of her clothes. That man had only exposed her physically, but Vader was doing something far worse. He had literally begun to strip her– making her completely naked. He had once again been in her mind and revealed one of her most precious secrets. Something that she disliked to broadcast. Was nothing sacred to him?
"No second thoughts," Vader finished before he tightened his grip, a loud crack echoing within the confinements of the alleyway before Vader allowed the lifeless body to fall to the cold Coruscant ground.
It was a move that Padmé had expected but still was unprepared to see, her eyes widening and breathe becoming heavy with shock. "You just killed him..." Padmé gasped, her eyes bewitched upon the body with disbelief.
"Yes," Vader replied coldly, his answer cold and short as he stepped even farther forward to inspect his kill.
"Dead," Padmé continued with the same shock, the scene still playing out within her mind.
His irritation flared at her comment, his body and hidden eyes conveying that fact as he looked from the dead body to her. "I believe that's the definition," he replied before stalking forward and bypassing her, walking away from the distressed woman without addressing the event any further.
That action shocked her even further, her sudden fear consuming her as she realized his attentions to leave her aline. "Wait! Wait! Wait!" Padmé called out, chasing after the retreating black form. "You aren't going to leave me!"
"I can and I will," he stated matter of factly. It was a cold reply, one that held anger and bitterness– annoyance even.
"After you rescued me?"
Her question seemed to hit a nerve within him, making him pause before a sudden change reacted within the air. "Don't be foolish!" Vader growled, a newly formed anger irrupting from his body as he turned towards the young senator and waved a gloved finger in her face. "I did what I had to do. Nothing more. Do not think you are something special–"
Vader continued his rampage, swinging his finger in her face as he took a very large step forward. It all would have been very, very intimidating– if Padmé wouldn't have been intoxicated and if his angry words hadn't began to blur together. Somewhere deep inside herself, she regretted her decision to make him pause, knowing it to be dangerous, but her usual intoxicated self liked that she had done so. It was a strange feeling, but her careless self felt extremely pleased and taken for reason's she couldn't explain. It was almost as if she had to hold back a smile as the Sith Lord continued to scold her. His words becoming– although silent to her– ever more heated with each passing second.
Even though it seemed as if she was, even in her state, she wasn't completely oblivious to her situation or the dangerous Sith that was before her. The closeness between them still made Padmé shiver and she internally wondered if anyone had ever stood so close to the Dark Lord of the Sith and lived to tell the tale. She highly doubted many, with the exception of the Imperial personnel. It would seem suicidal for anyone to want to be this close to him, especially in such a state of rage. Although... it was amazing how much she could comprehend about the man, if he was a man, at this distance. Even from their close range, she still couldn't see beneath the hood. His face was directly over her, but instead of eyes greeting her, it was simply a black hole. His overall presence was simply overwhelming, encasing and entrapping her– making her feel even colder than the Coruscant air. He was the definition of power and intimidation, overwhelming every single one of her sense. She had noticed his height before, but it was at this distance that she noticed how massive he actually was. He wan't just tall, but colossal. He towered over her, more than she had noticed in their previous meetings. Darth Vader had to be at least two meters tall and his broad shoulders added to his figure.
"Senator," Vader snapped, bringing Padmé back to reality and making her realize that she had been staring. Noticing their closeness again, Padmé immediately took a small step backwards suddenly feeling extremely small as she looked away. They stood there for a moment in silence as Padmé's head wrapped around what had happened, her mind still within a fog and now also confused by her actions. Her eyes skimmed the body of the dead man, the weight of what had almost taken place falling upon her.
"He didn't love me," Padmé whispered unconsciously, her thoughts overwhelming her, needing to be spoken aloud. She had heard of such acts, of men taking women against their will, of men raping women or even vice versa, but never had she been an almost victim of the crime. She couldn't understand it. It always seeming like a thing that happened in less modern cities and not a place like Coruscant. Her home– her life had been a happy one, despite the various situations that her planet had gone through during her reign. She had been attacked, physically and mentally, but never had anyone tried to take her maidenhood.
"What?"
"He didn't love me," Padmé repeated softly, her gaze on the lifeless body of her almost rapist.
She felt a pressure within her mind, before Vader offered her an answer that she didn't expect. "Love and sex do not correspond with one another," he stated bitterly as if understanding the issue that had presented itself within her mind. "You are foolish to believe otherwise."
It still didn't offer her clarity. She didn't want to believe him. The sentence going against her taught beliefs and self value. She had been raised in a place too just and too proper for such acts, probably not like the Sith before her. She could only imagine the things he had seen in his life time, while she had had a protective bubble placed around her. It wasn't that she didn't see truth within his statement, but that she could not believe that for herself. To her, sex was an act of love, not an act of greed or desire. It wasn't that the action wasn't an act of pleasure, but that it had to be done within a relationship– or so she wanted for herself. She did have a sense of realism, but she still held onto values of her childhood, ones that the cold and heartless galaxy had not ripped away from her yet...
"There was no love on his mind, Senator." Vader growled to further harden his statement. "His intentions were clear."
It was a harsh statement to her, but one that made the gears within her mind to spin. The buzz within her mind didn't allow the negative thoughts to continue, her train of thought transferring to a more interesting topic. "You believe sex has nothing to do with love?" Padmé asked innocently, sounding like a helpless, but intoxicated schoolgirl.
"Correct," Vader replied calmly, about to turn away.
"And that's why you allow sex?"
He paused mid turn, taken completely off guard by her question. "Excuse me?" he asked, his shock evident, obviously thinking he had misheard her.
Padmé giggled, her drunken state getting the best of her. "Sex," she repeated, before turning to him with serious eyes. " Sith don't love, but you just do it for physicality, not for feelings."
Vader stared at her, his gaze hard, filled with an unknown emotion. "I've never," he hissed lowly with angered amazement. "Had someone make such a–"
"You offered that information," Padmé pressed, somehow not feeling an ounce of fear and not caring that his anger seemed to be growing. "I'm just stating–"
"You're drunk," he snapped. "Annoyingly so."
Padmé gave him a look, shaking her head. "You stated something about me," she offered, raising a pressing eyebrow. "I'm just asking something about you."
"Your mix of trauma and intoxication haven given you false courage," Vader stated. "The crash will come soon enough."
She was drunk– more than she had realized, but she also wasn't as intoxicated as Vader believed. The liquid was messing with her senses and her mind, making her act in ways that she wouldn't usually... but she couldn't stop. "Then there isn't any sense not telling me," Padmé retorted back swiftly. "I won't remember–"
"Senator," Vader snapped, the tone in his voice telling Padmé to drop the subject. She did not argue, but still felt something off. There was a sensation swirling around her, one that she could not explain.
"Pad–Am– Amidala!" Dormé's voice yelled from behind the closed door catching Padmé's attention. As her gaze turned away from the Sith, the door swung open and Dormé quickly stumbled outside. "Th–there you areee," Dormé slurred, still drunk but obviously upset. "Where the hell've you been?"
With some sanity, Padmé looked at her drunken friend for a moment before glancing to the body beside her. Dormé eyes followed her own, even in her drunken state taking in the scene with a shocked-filled expression. "Wha'd th– the fuck happened?"
Even with her concern and shock, Padmé was quite honestly more upset with the woman she called her friend than the man she called her enemy. Dormé was supposed to protect her– had promised to protect her, while she expected nothing else from a lowlife man. Padmé's face dropped immediately, feeling disappointment wash over her and the undeniable need to be away from her friend. She looked back to Vader, someone that surprisingly hadn't disappointed her, but was greeted by the sight of the dark alley.
Darth Vader was gone and the fact sparked Padmé's anger, a frown overtaking her features as she faced the the doorway. She realized then how Dormé's dress was practically hanging off her body, her makeup smudged and her bra very much unclipped under the garment. It became obvious the reason of just why Dormé had been nowhere to be found during the time of the attack– having been somewhere fucking some excuse of a man that would give her the time of day. For once in her life, Padmé could almost not stand to look at the woman that she called her best friend. It was like she was looking at Dormé in a brand new light– a true light. It seemed her drunken mind actually brought her more clarity than she would usually realize, the flaws of her friend seeming to triple, than quadruple.
"What'sss… wrong?" Dormé stumbled, watching as Padmé's anger became visible, a look of death within her eyes.
The question made Padmé's anger flare to new heights. "What's wrong?" she repeated with a small, cold laugh. She couldn't believe Dormé would even ask her such a question. Padmé had never been drunk before– or at least until tonight– and although she admitted to some of the known systems of the vile beverage, it seemed impossible for anyone, even in a drunken state, to not notice her lack of clothes or the state of the dead corpse that laid on the ground. "How dare you ask me that!" Padmé yelled, continuing her rage. "You are so sad, Dormé! You run off with any guy that gives you the slightest bit of attention, you get drunk off your ass, and leave me alone in a place I didn't want to come to in the first place!" She knew that her anger was getting the best of her, that she was only saying these things because of the drink, but she couldn't stop because they were true. They were the truest statements of the night and for once, Padmé needed to release them. "I was almost raped!" Padmé finally admitted. "Raped because you were too busy fucking some stranger to realize that your best friend was gone!"
Dormé responded in the most unexpected way, not seeming to be affected by Padmé's anger in the slightest, letting out a series of giggles instead. "Please…. Amidala," she smiled stumbling towards the angry senator with an outstretched hand. "Calm d–"
Padmé flinched as her friend's hand made contact with her arm. "Don't touch me!" Padmé yelled, quickly pulling away from her friend's touch in a sudden fit of aggression. "Don't touch me, Dormé! And don't you dare tell me to calm down!"
A frown formed over Dormé's face as her hand fell to her side. "Don't be so dramatic," she whined, rolling her eyes. "You always make everything about you."
It was a statement that almost made Padmé growl. She couldn't believe what was happening. She couldn't believe that she had allowed this to happen. "Really?" Padmé snapped with the same anger and annoyance. "Because I seem to reca–"
"Sweet bottom!" a voice yelled, cutting Padmé's statement short and catching both women's attention.
The voice surprised Padmé, further confusing her, while Dormé had the opposite effect and began to giggle like a schoolgirl. As the third person exited the club to join them, the woman turned towards the door, stumbling into the arms of a man. The two shared a sloppy kiss, both obviously highly intoxicated– or stupefied on some substance. Once their lips parted, Padmé could do nothing but gasp, Dormé turning to her with a large smile. "Ami... Amidala, you remember, Mister Rush."
"Rush Clovis," Padmé laughed– or maybe cried. It just seemed too funny and hurtful that the man who had been flirting with her only moments before would be the one who was fucking her best friend while she was being raped and saved by the enemy. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Oh, please!" Dormé rolled her eyes. "You weren't going to fuck him."
"That's not my point," Padmé replied, her anger still present but slowly evaporating as hurt took its place. She had never seen Dormé act this way before. The woman may have been many things, but a bad friend was never one of them– Unless she just never noticed. Either way, Padmé decided it wasn't even worth her time to explain– to truly care. "Just forget it. You two have fun," she stated suddenly. "You deserve each other." Without another word, she turned and walked towards the light at the end of alleyway, tuning out the screams that called her name from behind, needing to get away.
The very early morning of Coruscant was dark and very cold, the endless light seeming to have vanished and the crowds of people nowhere to be seen. It was almost as if Padmé had entered a parallel universe, stuck within a maze for the rest of her life. She walked alone through the twists and turns of the lower-end streets, not wanting to admit to herself that she was lost. She had relieved the contents of her stomach sometime ago and her shoes had been left on the corner of some street that she couldn't recall. The haze that the alcohol had caused within her mind had lightened significantly but was undoubtedly still there and waiting to give her a headache. She seemed to be walking for what felt like hours with no resolution. The buildings and streets not being familiar to her and also having no way to contact anyone for help. Somehow during her walk, she had begun to decent to the lower levels of Coruscant, that much was clear, but the adventure that Padmé had found herself on was one that was completely new, having never for all the years that she had gone to Coruscant been out on the Coruscant streets at such an early hour– let alone, been out on the streets buzzed and half naked at such an early hour.
Taking another turn, Padmé regretted her decision to take back streets, then ashamed of what she presently looked like, but now just wanting to be home. At the time she had been too concerned with everyone else to make the correct decision for herself. She knew the Press would have a field day if they found Senator Amidala walking around half naked on the Coruscant streets at such an ungodly hour, but now it seemed like the least of her worries. The images of her almost rapist played within her mind, her true worries resurfacing as she was hopeless but to look in terrorized fear around every corner. The paranoia she felt was almost to great to handle, finally causing the floodgates to burst and forcing Padmé to admit one statement to herself: She had almost been raped.
Just then a hard gust of wind blew against Padmé, the feeling of the cold air brushing against her skin and allowing her to release what she had been holding inside. For the first time in a very, very long time, she began to cry... hard. She sobbed uncontrollably, the tears stinging her eyes and her small wails echoing down the street corners. For the first time since she had become lost, she was thankful to be alone. It was a strange reactor, but with a chilling case. The small gust of cold air being perfectly harmless if it wasn't for one tiny factor. It was only because her almost rapist's cloak clung to her body, the scent hit her nostrils like a punch to the gut when the wind began to blow. Immediately, Padmé's skin began to itch and every part of her body burned as the man's touch reappeared on her body. She felt his eyes on her, devouring her. His hands were moving ravenously over her body, touching her in all the wrong places. Her breathing became shallow, feeling the weight of his body crashing against hers, his hardness rubbing against her most private area. The sickness boiled in her stomach from the taste of his saliva and her tears that were hot in her mouth. She felt everything as if it was happening over again. It was a nightmare.
In one swift motion, Padmé threw the disgusting cloak to the ground and kicked it away. She began obsessively rubbing her hands around her body, attempting to get the man's touch off of her skin. The remains of the dress that had been on her body were gone; the only clothing left being her bra and underwear. The small garments didn't help though, as she still felt completely naked. The tears began to fall even more rapidly from her eyes and she let out small cries as her hands rubbed circles on her skin. She knew nothing would remove his touch from her body– that nothing would take the nightmare away– That she was ruined.
"Senator," Vader's voice echoed suddenly taking Padmé by more shock than surprise.
Padmé whirled around to see Darth Vader standing against the darkness of the street and immediately dropped onto the ground. Acting quickly, she brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs securely, trying to cover herself. Sheepishly she looked up at the Dark Lord through tear filled eyes before looking back to the ground ashamed.
He moved swiftly towards her, his boots causing the gravel to crack and his overall existence overwhelming her as he paused her. She dared not look up, even when she was sure he was squatting beside her.
"You're still intoxicated," he stated, sounding more like a doctor than a Sith Lord. "And suffering from mental trauma."
She still didn't dare look at him, not caring for the fact that he had just diagnosed her. She saw from the corner of her eye him rise to his full height again, her breath catching within her throat as she tried to stop her tears.
"You– You've been following me," she stated softly, the roughness of pain still within her voice.
He didn't reply, but she already knew it was true. It couldn't be a coincidence that Darth Vader had found her twice in one night, and even more unconvincing that she would survive both encounters. Her mind tried to think of reasons to why but fell short on the account of her pain and daze. Feeling his eyes on her once more, Padmé pressed her chest harder into her knees in a vein attempt to hide her body from him and just hoped that her mind was hidden too.
"If you didn't want someone to see you in this state," he growled angrily in annoyance, reaching out his hand and calling the fallen cloak into his palm "Then perhaps you shouldn't strip in the center of the street."
She flinched away from the material as if it was a poisonous serpent; shaking her head in rejection as he tried to hand it back to her.
Vader let out an annoyed sigh, moving the cloak away from her. "Senator," he growled in warning and Padme's eyes once again fell to the ground, embarrassed.
She tried to stop the tears, but her attempts were all but failing. "It's… It's his," she managed to choke out between cries, giving him some sort of explanation.
"Yes," Vader agreed with a nod. "That abomination that I killed."
"It… It smells… like him," Padmé finally whispered, allowing herself to look up at the dark clocked figure in hopes that he would understand.
Vader was silent for a moment, his shoulders locking and his head tilting as if piecing the actions together. He seemed to then understand that the man's smell made her have a relapse and that she didn't want any part of that man anywhere near her. With obvious annoyance, Vader let out a heavy sigh, returning back into the darkness. He disappeared into the adjacent ally and when he reappeared he no longer wore his long black cloak, but a somewhat smaller brown one. The brown material still covered his features, hiding every feature perfectly from view. Towering over Padmé he held out a large black cloak in front of her, offering the different material instead of the previous brown one.
Padmé eyed him with confusion, looking between him and the material. "Wh…What?"
It seemed to spark Vader's heightened annoyance, the brown cloak covey more of his motion than the black allowed. "If you refuse to wear his cloak, then you will have to wear mine…" Vader pointed out, before quickly adding. "Unless you wish to walk home naked."
It was a decision that shocked her, realizing that Vader now had on the other man's robe and was offering his to her. Eyeing the black fabric, Padmé wasn't reminded of the man that had almost raped her but the one that had saved her. Hesitantly she reached out for the cloak, waiting for Vader to change his mind or disregard her embarrassment completely– Or on a more realistic note, for her to wake of from the strange dream in which she had entered. She took the cloak from Vader's grasp and slowly put it over her body, almost immediately feeling the absent of the man's hands on her skin. It was a feeling that she didn't want to dwell on, but at the very least allowed herself to breathe in relief. When she was fully covered, she stood up and inspected herself. The black robe was huge, extremely too big for her small figure, but it covered her naked body and for that she was thankful. Slowly, she turned towards Lord Vader wiping away the tears from her face and trying to regain her herself, melting into a somewhat stable person although the presence of sickness and alcohol still dwelled within her belly.
"Thank you, Lord Vad–" Padmé attempted to say professionally, but found herself soon swaying, a wave of nausea pulsating through her body as she fought the urge to throw up.
"You're drunken state causes you to be idiotic," Vader snapped annoyed, taking a large step back as if sensing the wave of sickness and wanting to move from its path. "I despise drunks."
He seemed to be overly annoyed, but she could hardly care. Padmé concentrated on her breathing, her hand resting over her mouth until she counted to thirty and her stomach calmed. "I'm not that drunk," she tried to argue, feeling the wave crash through her again before her hand landed upon her lips once more. Shit. Maybe, she was.
"Count again," Vader commanded, and Padmé did as she was told, ignoring the chill that ran down her spine as she realized he had been listening to her thoughts once again. "It's enough to confuse your senses," he continued, scolding her as he placed his hands on his belt, his words more harsh than she understood. "You're tolerance to such substance isn't high. What you did was foo–"
"Foolish," Padmé finished his sentence, feeling the wave pass as she rolled her eyes. " I get it. I know. What do you care?"
"I despise babysitting," he growled, turning and beginning to walk down the street instead of retreating to his darkness. "And idiots."
Padmé stumbled after him hurriedly, tripping over the long garment that slide behind her, but too afraid to pause in fear that she would be left alone. "Is there anything you don't despise?"
"No," he stated dryly.
Well," Padmé offered, slightly curious and brave. "If you despise everything so much than why are you here?"
He made no effort to reply, his head staying forward as he continued his slow gate. Padmé watched him as they walked, feeling some sort of– something, about the man beside her. Something that she couldn't process, but knew she had never felt before. Strangely, she no longer just felt fear concerning the Sith, but also heightened curiosity, more curiosity than she had ever felt before– As if that statement was possible.
"Silence," she mused with a small nod. "You know that won't make me stop asking questions."
"Your drunkenness has given you sorts of bravery," Vader commented, his voice irked and holding anger. "I'm unfortunately aware."
"Good," Padmé replied, pushing her subject on. "So why are you here?"
Again, he made no effort to reply but Padmé continued regardless.
"Does it have something to do with that party? With the Senate? With Palpatine?"
It was a fair question, one that she was even surprised to think of in her dazed state, but Vader remained unimpressed– unimpressed and silent.
Padmé fought her own wave of annoyance, trying to find answers, but unable to do so. She knew the opportunity would likely never present itself again– that she would never feel so carefree and reckless again. She highly doubted that she would even remember this night, or so she hoped, so it seemed pointless for Vader to remain silent. Smirking, she guessed how to press his buttons, giving him a small amused look. "You know," she sighed. "I could go back to the sex questions, if you would like."
He didn't took towards her, but Padmé felt his sudden change. "I would induce you into a coma," he breathed lowly. "If I weren't so apprehensive that you would stop breathing."
The threat hung within the air, but Padmé was too pleased that he had responded to truly care, instead reading into his words and piecing together the clues. "So you're powerful with the Force," she commented within thought. "But I guess that much is clear." She looked up with a small frown and gazed at his hooded head, wondering who or what was beneath– wondering just who Palpatine was hiding from the galaxy. Just who truly was Darth Vader? And what did he have to hide? "It's under the hood that's the mystery..." she finished lowly, imagining all different types of creatures in her mind, each one more sinister and repulsive than the next.
An amused but dark chuckled left the throat of the Sith beside her. "If we are taking votes," Vader commented, his voice suddenly void. "I vote on your third idea."
"Was that a joke?" Padmé gasped, more in a joking fashion that Vader didn't take lightly to.
"No," he growled, bitterness in voice as his head snapped in her direction.
It made Padmé's step shuffle, reminding her of the fear she still had for the Sith beside her, but quickly tried to play it off. "Pity," she commented. "I was afraid you had a sense of humor."
"On occasion," he replied, his voice turning dark as his head turned slowly towards her. "Though I sense our form of amusement is drastically unlike."
"I have no doubt," Padmé agreed, her mind thinking of the cruel ways and gruesome torture that Vader probably found amusing– that, and sex. "So," she continued to press. "It's just sex then. No love."
"Senator," he snapped. "Drop it."
"Answer my questions and I will," she replied swiftly, her mind quickly forming a negotiation on account of her political background.
"You are foolish to believe in love," he eventually hissed, giving his not so direct answer.
Padmé nodded regardless, processing his words. "No love," she thought with a nod. "Do you not feel any emotion?"
"No," he snapped, but Padmé rose an eyebrow.
"No you do?" she asked, knowing she was pushing his limits. "Or no you don't?"
He didn't answer her, his pace seeming to quicken.
She attempted to keep up with him, but found the task hard. "Do you have any emotions?"
"No."
"Ever?"
"No."
"Are you not human?"
"No."
"Are you a machine?"
"No."
Padmé sighed, almost running to keep up with Vader's long strides, but feeling as she was going nowhere. "Are you going to answer all my questions with no?"
"Yes." Vader growled, his head only turning back to face her. "Now, shut up and follow me."
Usually, Padmé wouldn't listen to such a demand but something within his voice told her not to argue with him. Not having much of another choice, she followed Darth Vader through the twists and turns of the city, surprised that he seemed to know it so well. From what she could gather, Vader knew every nook and cranny of the Coruscant streets, never pausing or hesitating as he continued to lead. He kept them away from busy avenues, only staying to the somewhat darker alleys that Padmé didn't even knew existed. She had given up the task nearly immediately of trying to walk next to him, instead filling in behind him while trying to keep up with his long strides. Walking behind Lord Vader, she took the opportunity to inspect him from behind. As noted earlier, unlike the robe the engulfed her own body, the brown cloak clung to his, showing off more defining lines than usual. The garment was far too small for him, but somehow he had made it work. It gave him an outline that read of a human, but she supposed he usually looked more human than any other galactic species. It was his power and actions that caused the debate, and as of right now, the mix that Padmé had seen had her wondering.
"Your friends are concerned," he stated blankly, breaking the cold silence between them and making Padmé reemerge to reality.
At first she was confused about what he was referring to, looking at him with a frown before following the direction of his hood. To her amazement, her eyes came across a familiar sight, the Senate Apartment Complex: her home. Looking back, she realized the last alley– again, one she had never noticed before– had been one that connected to her street, leading directly to the back of the building. Somehow, Vader had lead her home without even realizing it... And that alone amazed her.
Pausing at the edge of the shadows, Vader waited for her to reach him. "Perhaps, you should inform of your peers of your presence," he stated flatly. "Your security is tearing apart Coruscant looking for you."
Padmé was surprised by his comment, but forced a small nod, never thinking about her security or her friends during her time with Vader. It had been her moment away and it was now coming to an end. It was then that Padmé felt Vader's urge to leave but on even more shocking note, she felt herself not wanting him to go. "Can't you stay?" she whispered before she could stop herself, her gaze moving back to the ground and a mix of feelings developing within her soul as she felt his eyes move over her. That's when she felt it– that something again– a sort of spark that she could not explain. It shot through her body like lightening, becoming heavy but not compressing. It felt strange, but... Good. Slowly, as if being forced, she raised her head back to the Sith, meeting his gaze that she felt hot on her skin. They stared at each other for a long moment, no word said between them, but something undoubtedly happening... Until–
"Oh Force! Call security! She's back!" a voice yelled, breaking the moment, catching Padmé's attention as she looked towards the building.
Moments later, the door of the apartment building swung open as a young female ran out into the Coruscant street, her face filled with a mixture of relief and tears. "There you are!" Dormé screamed as she barreled into Padmé, nearly knocking her over before wrapping her arms tightly around her best friend. "I've been so worried!"
Padmé returned the hug with some delay, stuck within another daze.
Pulling away, Dormé smiled again and quickly wiped away her tears. She took a few steps back, trying to calm herself before her face seemed to pale and she froze within the street. Originally missing the creature within the darkness, Dormé's face conveyed her utter shock as she noticed him beside the senator, quickly controlling her reaction and bowing her head in scared respect. "And, Lord Vader."
He made no reply and the three stood in silence for a few short seconds before another joined them.
"Ah! Senator Amidala! You're home! What a relief!" Rush Clovis yelled as he opened the door of the apartment and walked over to join the two women. He seemed pleased enough– too pleased.. at least until he noticed their company. Rush paused just before them, a large frown overtaking his face, eyeing the Sith Lord with a sickening glare. "And what is he doing here?"
"And where are your clothes?" Dormé added, looking at Padmé's state, before looking between her friend and the Sith with a type of shock that grew to terror.
Padmé could see the idea forming within her friend's eyes and her eyes widened too at the thought. She practically ran towards Dormé in an attempt to stop the thought before it started. "No!" Padmé nearly screamed, holding out her hands as she shook her head wildly. "It's nothing like that! It's not like that at all!"
Rush stepped around the two women, putting himself between them and Vader, not caring about their conversation although it obviously angered him. His whole body tightened as he made an attempt to intimidate the Sith Lord, flashing Vader a mockingly grin. "I'm surprised to see the Emperor's pet off his leash and so very far away from home," he commented, nothing but arrogance within his voice. "Not lost, are you?"
Vader made no move, but Padmé turned back to the opposite man with a hard fron.
"Rush," she growled. "You have no right."
He turned his head back to her with a face of bewilderment. "You're defending him again?" Rush laughed, but the anger was still present within his eyes. "Oh this is just too good!"
"Rush–" Dormé attempted, but Padmé wouldn't be insulted without a further reply.
"He saved me," she retorted. "So I have the right to defend his presence here."
The statement surprise both, Dormé and Rush, making them pause for a moment and take in the information. It seemed like a simple fact that Padmé had laid to the table, telling the truth without giving too much information, but it was something she immediately regretted as she felt Vader's cold eyes move upon her and watched as Rush's surprised turned to an emotion even more sinister.
"Saving someone? That isn't like you Vader," Rush scolded with a laugh, raising his eyebrow as he turned back to the Sith Lord. "Trying to be a good guy, eh?"
Vader's lack of response caused Rush's confidence to visibly risen, as he moved towards the Sith in an act of mockery.
"I have to say," he smiled, crossing his arms over his chest as he rose both eyebrows. "You have been becoming softer. I mean," he motioned, shrugging his shoulders. "You couldn't even kill me. That doesn't sound like a true big bad Sith Lord."
At Rush's comment, Vader made the first sign of acknowledge that he was listening to what Rush was saying, his head turning slightly and the air around them dropping dramatically. It was a change that they all felt, but one that Rush decided to ignore, only focusing on that fact that Vader still did not speak.
"That's what I thought," Rush laughed moving towards Vader again. He looked up at the Dark Lord that towered over him, not showing one ounce of fear. "You're a slave, Vader..." he whispered, his tone dark and confident. "You're nothing but a puppet in a bigger game that is being played. You act so powerful, but you are nothing. You can't do anything unless your master commands. I figured out your game. You can't hurt me." With that, Rush turned his back on Vader, gesturing him to leave with a flick of his wrist. "Run back to your master like the pet you are. It's what slaves do."
Vader's movements were too quick for anyone to comprehend, the attack ending before it had even begun. The chill and darkness that filled the air were almost immediate, but nothing could compare to the sounds and smells that came next. Padmé could vaguely remember the sound of ignition and a strange buzzing, a dash of black and a glow of red before the sound of screams. She could feel Dormé's arms surrounding, somehow holding them both together on the ground in which they had fell with their eyes shut. Fear was the obvious reaction, their own personal fear as well as each other's. The sound of silence was their only relief and when Padmé managed to open her eyes, she saw Vader's retreating figure disappear into the morning darkness. Her eyes were stuck upon on him– stuck on the spot in which he had disappeared until Dormé let out a bloodcurdling scream. With her head snapping towards the noise, she followed Dormé's terrified eyes, the sight making her own body turn cold: the dead, deformed, and severed body of Rush Clovis.
Author's Note: Drop a review!