Vader's Angel
By: wertman25
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Star Wars…. Or Anakin Skywalker… Which is a pity…
Author's Note: It is not that I am losing inspiration/motivation for the story, but that I am overwhelmed with this (Which is my fault). As I have said, I am very busy, so you have my apologies, and I can promise that I am not going to quit this story until it is finished. The reason for the slow updates is again due to my schedule & starting school again, and feeling that my writing isn't up a certain bar that I am setting for myself. I would like to re-write, because I am pained with the earlier chapters of this story, but feel that may be selfish to do so when so many people love the way it is already written, so I am undecided with what I will do, although I feel that I will try to finish and then see how I feel since I am overwhelmed with doing it as of now.
It had been nine days since Padmé had last seen Vader and to say that she was anxious was by far the understatement of the century. Being bedridden and locked inside her bedroom had given her nothing but time to think about the mystery of Darth Vader and the possibility of their child. She had thought and rethought every possibility– every scenario– every decision. She had cried, and yelled, and cursed at the high heavens– the Force for doing this to her. She had to think and rethink, and overthink a million times, before bringing her mind to a level of function. It had been a long, difficult, and exhausting process, but one that was thankfully short lived. After her mind had become too exhausted with the same subject and her emotions becoming nothing less than a void– Then, it became easy. Something unexpected. Surprisingly, turning the time into something that had brought her less near insanity than she had expected and in fact, giving her much needed clarity.
The time had given her the opportunity to realize that there were a number of various things that did not make sense. Things she would have noticed if she had been in the correct state of mind. So with the subject of Vader and her possible child aside, she realized that firstly, as she had stated to him herself, it made no sense for her to be in Vader's care any longer. None. There was absolutely no reason for her to be where she was: in Darth Vader's establishments, and although she had blamed the situation solely on the Sith, saying that it was just his way to play with her mind and body, when she was thinking clearly, she knew that Palpatine was the one who was really in control. He was the master, and Vader just his loyal puppet. Emperor Palpatine was the true mastermind in this, and for some reason, he had yet another secret agenda. For some reason, the man had not commanded Vader to kill her–yet. Why? What was the point? Why hold out for this long? Why keep her there?
Then there was Palo– a complication in more ways than one. More ways than she wanted to think about. There was the matter of their past together– of the renewed love he felt for her, the love that she no longer felt towards him, but there was also the matter of him turning up on Coruscant for the issue of stolen artifacts, striking up a relationship with her, before turning out to be working for the Rebellion. It was all too good to be true– too… planned. It seemed so obvious now… In fact, so obvious that perhaps, Palpatine or Vader should have expected it. So, why didn't they? Why didn't the most powerful of Sith Lords sense such an obvious target? Palo was not trained in the ways of the Force, nor was he a politician. He couldn't have been able to hide the information that well… Not well enough to hide it from two powerful Sith Lords. Padmé had seen the extent of Vader's powers, as did she know of Palpatine's, there was absolutely no way Palo would stand a chance against them… Was there?
The next thought frightened her the most, involving herself, Vader, and their possible child– but that was the thing, "possible." She didn't know for sure, which she had to admit, seemed odd. After all, this was Coruscant: the capital of the whole galaxy and one of the most advanced planets in the entire galaxy. So why did it seem to be down on technology? Why did it seem like she was on a planet located in the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim? She knew there had been budget cuts and complications in her own case, but to this extent? It didn't seem likely. There was absolutely no way she should have left that hospital without knowing if or if not she was pregnant.
She might be pregnant, and although that thought frightened her, she conjured a thought even worse. She had options if she was pregnant: to escape and run away, to raise her child away from prying eyes– away from Vader, a place where no one would find out his true parentage… Right? But how couldn't they? The doctor had said that no one would have to know who the father of her child was, and that the pregnancy tests, regardless of results, would not be attached to her file– that no one would ever know… But how true was that statement? She highly doubted doctor-patient confidentiality meant much in the eyes of the Empire. People like Palpatine or even Vader knew she was here. They could check the facts. They could figure out what had happened during her stay. And even worse, the doctor was probably well aware of her predicament, of the fact that she was living with the Dark Lord of the Sith. Didn't that mean that Darth Vader was the only option of "father" if she was pregnant? Didn't that mean the doctor already knew? Would or could she keep it a secret?
Oh, Sith.
This wasn't good. The situation that was forming, as well as her own suspicion, almost made Padmé want to tell Vader… but because of the circumstances, she also wanted to do nothing of the sort. Just the basic definition of Darth Vader made her not want to tell him anything about what was occurring. There were things like his murder list, his reputation, and his monstrous behavior that were factors in her decision, and there were things that were slightly more personal. Things like… Shmi. She still hadn't figured out, who or what the woman's name could be to him. She could still remember him calling out for her, the obvious care he had for her, and the sight of his defensiveness when she had tried to ask him about her. Padmé had admitted to not feeling any hatred towards the woman, but the jealousy still bubbled in her belly. Could this have been a woman that Darth Vader truly loved?
The jealousy bubbled in her belly once more. Loved. Love. He had loved that woman– and he still did… She could feel it. She knew he still loved her and she had seen the evidence to justify it. But then what did that make her? She had accepted– or at least told herself that Vader cared for her– as much as Vader was capable of. He tolerated her and socialized with her better than he did with most people, but she doubted he cared for her in the way she was beginning to care for him, and he showed no sort of affection to justify that he cared for her like he had cared for the woman, Shmi.
He can't love, Padmé's inner knowledge fought against her thoughts. He's a Sith Lord.
She knew that was right, but she also knew her thoughts were right too. Sith Lords were not allowed to love– they couldn't love. Darth Vader wasn't capable of love– or at least, not anymore, not like this… He had obviously cared at one point of his life, a time probably before "Darth Vader," a time before the Empire, a time that rested somewhere before he crawled out of the darkness to reveal himself to the galaxy. He had been capable of love during some point of his life, but not anymore. Now, Darth Vader wasn't capable of it– but she desperately wanted him to be.
Force, she had to admit it now. Even before the sex or the games, before the confusion of feelings and unexplainable actions, there had been the undeniable spark between them. The spark that called her to him, that asked her to forgive, asked her to remain curious– to try. She would never admit it to anyone other then herself, but she couldn't deny it any longer. Her track record was already turning against her: the curiosity, the forgiveness, the need, the sex, and the caring. Not only that, but she might even be pregnant with his child for Force's sake, and she was not at all as devastated as she thought she would be– As she knew she should be. Terrified, of course, but instead of dying within a pit of humiliation, she found herself time and time again trying to find the positivity within the situation– even without Vader, she had to look at the baby as a blessing.
Force, she was falling in love with the Sith. A man that was both, wild and tender – angry and broken– a monster and a lover– her lover– her monster. She was falling in love with one, and becoming more accepting of the other– deciding to take on both so that she could have the single man that the madness was trapped within. And even worse, she didn't want it to stop. And the humility of that, unlike the baby, made her want to crawl into a hole and die. In love with Lord Vader? Was she crazy? Yes! But she didn't care. She had fought it all for too long. She knew that sex would only make things more complicated, and they had, because it was more than just passing feelings. Their connection was true now– physical. She wanted to be his, and she wanted him to be hers. She wanted him. She needed him. She was falling in love with him, and she could live with herself with that secret fact as long as she did not admit it to another soul.
The entire situation was like a dream– a nightmare, and all because of it all, she found herself back in a medical room, waiting for the test results. Test results that would predict her fait. Was she pregnant with Darth Vader's child, or was she not? Was she about to try to make the escape of her life, or be locked back into the constant, never ending whirlwind?
"Good news," Doctor Ky smiled as she walked into the room, holding a datasheet. "You have made a miraculous recovery," she stated with awe of amazement in her voice. "I have never seen anyone with your initial injuries heal so quickly throughout my entire medical career. It's miraculous – A miracle, really."
Padmé only smiled, not about to reveal her secret healing method : Lord Vader. "The droid I reside with has taken quite good care of me," Padmé answered professionally, truthfully even. "He always gave me my medication and allowed me to get my needed rest. I couldn't have asked for anything better." She paused, taking a deep breath, steading and readying herself as she looked to her doctor. "And what of the other test?" Padmé asked. "Am– Am I pregnant?"
Hearing the question out load made her heart drop to her stomach and the reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. The rush she felt as anything short of pleasant. She felt like a server weight had been placed over her chest, not allowing her to breath, and so she was forced to hold her breath as she waited for her answer.
The doctor took a deep breath then, looking up from the information in her hands with a strange look, before shaking her head. "You are not," she answered, and instantly a rush of feelings and emotions flooded Padmé's soul. "As I said before," the feline continued. "The false positives from your last visit could have been a result from your trauma, or possibly be entirely from another reason that we are not aware of. Either way, you are not pregnant."
Not pregnant.
She allowed those words to sink in. Not pregnant. She wasn't pregnant. She wasn't carrying Vader's child… but how was she suppose to feel about that?
The first emotion she felt was happiness– joy, because she wasn't carrying Darth Vader's child. She wasn't carrying the spawn of a monster, and she was relieved, overjoyed to be free of that burden–that mistake. But the second emotion she felt was sadness… for exactly the same reason, because, well, she wasn't carrying Vader's child. She thought of the sweetness– the good that Vader did hold. The good that was in him– the good that she knew was there. She thought of the gorgeous man that had saved her and stood before her– the man that was her lover. In truth, she wouldn't mind having that man's child, if she somehow forgot in the grand scheme of things that that was indeed, Darth Vader. But regardless of the baby's father, it would have still been her baby. She would have helped the child. She would have kept him safe. She would have loved him and cherished him.
She admitted to herself of having feelings for the Sith, but knew she could never truly act upon them– apart from being alone inside her bedroom. In reality, to the eyes of the galaxy, she could never get married or have a family– have a life with someone like Darth Vader. She wouldn't want that, and neither would he. And she had to admit that hurt. She knew that what they were doing– what they had would not last forever, but for a split second she hoped that she would have something of him that would be forever. That maybe, she could have something to remember him by, that could fulfill part of her fantasy of being able to keep part of him forever.
Them she felt hate– hate for everything, and everyone. She hated her life. She hated her choices. She hated politics. She hated the war. She hated the rules. She hated the Force. She hated the Rebellion. She hated the Empire. She hated Palpatine. She hated Darth Vader, and finally, she hated herself for allowing this to happen. How could she have fallen this far?
The last emotion she felt, was finally confusion, because how was she suppose to feel? How was she truly supposed to react with all of these thoughts and emotions raging inside of her? She truly didn't know.
"Senator Amidala," the doctor repeated louder, pulling Padmé out of her thoughts. Upon hearing her name, she turned to the woman, who had concerned eyes, looking as if she had been calling her for sometime without response.
"I'm sorry," Padmé quickly responded, pulling herself together as she attempted to lock away her emotions. "What was that?"
Another strange look passed over the doctor's eyes, one Padmé could not decipher before the feline continued. "I said that there is a man here to see you," she repeated. "He says he is your boyfriend."
Vader was the first man to pop into Padmé's mind before quickly dissolving, making Padmé's heart grow and shrink, because, it couldn't have been Vader. There was no way.
She frowned as she thought about the statement, about her supposed boyfriend that was here to see her. "I'm sorry," she began, slightly concerned about the matter. "I don't–"
"Padmé!" Palo exclaimed, cutting her off as he ran into the room and hugged her tightly, his face filled with a mixture of worry and relief.
She returned the hug with a somewhat of a delay, caught between her feelings and shock. "Palo," she breathed, before unlatching her hands from around his waist– while he did not do the same.
"Padmé," he breathed into her hair, kissing the top of her head softly before pulling away to look into her eyes. "It's so good to see you. Are you alright?"
"I'm okay," she nodded, trying to sooth his worries. "I'm just a little bruised and battered."
He hugged her even tighter then, bringing her back into his chest and wrapping his arms around her. Padmé could hear the doctor make an awkward noise, possibly stepping backwards. "I'll give you to a minute," Doctor Ky announced as she turned and exited the room before Padmé could argue.
Palo pulled way as she left, his hands grabbing onto Padmé's to hold them tightly within his grasp. "I'm so sorry…" he breathed, shaking his head, with true regret and sorrow in his voice. "This is my entire fault. If it weren't for me – If it weren't for me you wouldn't be in here. You would be safe! The Rebellion would be safe! Your droid would be–"
"My droid?" Padmé cut him off, her voice concerned and unsteady, not expecting his comment about her companion. "Artoo? What happened? Is he alright?"
He hesitated, stuck between a rock and a hard place. "Don't you remember?" he frowned, looking even more concerned, before reminding her gently. "He was in the room with you when the blast erupted– I'm sorry, Padmé. He is gone."
Gone? Artoo was gone?
"Gone?" Padmé breathed, her heart nearly breaking as she thought about her little, blue best friend. It suddenly didn't seem real. "They– They can't repair him?"
Palo shook his head. "There isn't a mechanic good enough in the galaxy to fix that bucket of smithereens," he commented, not meaning to be cruel, but getting the picture across that he needed. She wasn't going to see that little droid again.
Padmé nearly cried as she pictured the small droid in pieces–smithereens, as Palo had put it. It pained her heart to think that she would never see him again, and even more so, how she could have forgotten about him. How could she? Even through her trauma, how could she have forgotten that R2 had been behind her?
Oh, her mind wept. I'm so sorry, Artoo. I'm so sorry.
"I'm sorry," Palo repeated, as if knowing Padmé thoughts, while he rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. "I know how much you cared for him." He paused again, shaking his head in what looked like agony. "This is all my fault."
The repeat of the comment made Padmé frown. His fault? He sounded as if he meant it, as if it was just not a kind, sorrowful gesture. "Palo," she asked, trying to hide the anger within her voice. "How is this your fault?"
He shook his head again. "I was helping the Rebellion," he explained, not making eye contact with her as he spoke bitterly. "But things have become far more complicated." He looked to her then, a pain within his dreamy eyes. "Senator Alavar," he gestured. "As you know was behind the attack, working behind our backs with the Resistance. She turned against the Rebellion and–"
"Resistance?" Padmé interrupted, a frown on her face, not understanding the word. "What Resistance?"
"The Resistance against the Empire," Palo exclaimed. "It's a second rebellion. People fear that the Rebellion is crumbling, and so they have separated, creating a second–"
"That's crazy!" Padmé interrupted once more, getting the general idea that Palo was trying to tell her. Had the galaxy gone completely mad? "Don't people understand that only together we stand a chance?" she exclaimed, shaking her head as if to clear it of the crazy haze in which she had entered. "And now they are attacking us? We have a common enemy!"
"It's craziness," Palo agreed, before his eyes met hers again. He grabbed onto her hands again, rubbing them softly before speaking. "They– They took advantage of me, Padmé. I was just trying to protect you, and they used me against you. I'm so sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you– Anything. Now because of me, the whole operation has been blown."
The whole operation has been blown– They know!
Slowly, gently, Padmé pulled her hands out of his grasp. She could feel where the conversation was going, and she could not allow it to surpass the line she was already pressing. Now was not the time. Not with such costly consequences.
"I think," Padmé spoke gently, but meaningfully. "I think you should go."
Palo didn't like that, his face and body conveying his resist. "Padmé," he begged, hearing the tone within her voice. He moved towards her, attempting to grab her hands but was denied the pleasure as she pulled away. "Please don't do this!"
"Please leave, Palo!" she repeated, her voice becoming harder as she stood up from the cot and moved away from him. "You need to leave."
"But," he stumbled frantically, practically falling over his feet as he chased after her. "But– but I love you, Padmé! I love you!"
She denied him once more, for the first time using brutal force. When he tried to grab her, she hit him hard in the chest, causing him to step backwards with a loud yell.
"Leave now!" she repeated, her voice serious and hard. "You have to leave before Vader figures out your involvement in this." She was serious. She knew what Vader would do. "Because it is only a matter of time before he does, and when he does, he will surely kill you."
"I can't just leave you here!" Palo argued, throwing his hands into the air like she was suggesting madness.
"Yes, you can," Padmé pressed confidently, nodding once. "I'm fine. It is yourself you need to worry about."
Palo breathed a hard sigh, rubbing his face with his hand. "I know I need to leave," he admitted, but again shook his head in defiance. "But I can't leave you."
She could hear the truth within his statement, and could tell that he actually believed his own words. He didn't think he could leave her.
"Palo," she breathed, softening her voice and truly feeling for the man before her. She knew he cared, and it wasn't fair of her to do this to him when she had cared as well. She still cared for him, but it wasn't the same. She wasn't in love with him, but even so, she didn't want to see him get killed– Not like Rush Clovis. "I'm fine," she repeated. "Please, go."
For the first time Palo smiled, but his eyes remained sad. "You always could look after yourself," he breathed, before he grabbed onto her and pulled her into a hug, one that she returned, but tried not to influence.
"Senator– Oh, I'm sorry," the doctor apologized, walking into the room and realizing she was interrupting the couple. "I did not know you still had your guest."
"It's fine," Padmé answered quickly, waving her apology off. "He was just leaving." She looked back at him then, for the first time feeling sad– truly sad. He had been for weeks her connection to the outside world, her human interaction, her lifeline, and now that she was leaving, she didn't want to say goodbye… but she had to. She forced a smile, pressing herself on. "Goodbye, Palo." she breathed, trying to hide the hurt within her voice. "Take care of yourself."
He grabbed her hand and kissed it softly, before looking into her eyes. "You too." he replied. "Please be safe."
She could tell he didn't want to leave, and she was at least thankful for that– for his concern for her. She nodded with a small smile and he took his cue. He spared a final glance at her as he walked towards the door, before disappearing down the hallway, and making his unnoticed escape.
"He seems very nice," the doctor smiled, and Padmé forced a nod, using Palo as an advantage to perhaps get the doctor to think he was her sexual partner instead of Vader.
"He is," she smiled, before instantly changing the subject, not wanting the doctor to make any more comments or ask anymore questions. "So, what is my plan for birth control?"
The doctor's eyes looked down when the question reached her ears, her breathing changing and heartbeat increasing. "Unfortunately, we cannot put you on any at this time," she replied, and it was the biggest lie if Padmé had ever saw one.
The woman was lying, and Padmé hardly needed her years in the political field to see it. Alarms went off within every cell of her body, her suspicions coming true. There was something going on!
"I'm sorry," Padmé decided to press, acting completely professional and not calling the doctor out on her lie. "This all is beginning to make no sense to me. I understand there has been budget cuts, but this is a Coruscant Medical Center, the best in the galaxy. Why does it seem like I'm on a planet passed the Outer Rim?"
The woman seemed to become flustered, her ears twitching back and froth, and her mouth opening and shutting three or five times before real words came spilling out of it in a horrible wreck of a sentence. "I–Well, the medicine–your body –"
"Doctor Kytra Purr'kinta Hollinger," a droid interrupted, floating into the room and saving the doctor from Padmé's questions. "There is a call for you."
All at once the feline's demeanor changed, looking at Padmé with wide eyes before looking back and nodding to the droid frantically. "Tell him–" she paused as if making a mistake, a hiss leaving her throat and fear reaching her eyes. "Tell them I will be there in one moment."
Padmé glared at the doctor, making her suspicion and unhappiness known. "Do you care to explain–"
"I'm sorry, but I have done all that I can!" Doctor Ky answered completely flustered, not allowing Padmé to finish as she nearly sprinted towards the exit. "You may go, Senator. I wish you the best of luck!"
Padmé watched as the doctor fled her room, a mixture of emotions roaring inside of her, but none she could process. There was only one that stood out far above the rest: fear– fear because she knew something was going on, and whatever had just happened with the doctor had proved it. Something was wrong– Something was happening. But what? She didn't know, but she had an idea of who would… but he was missing in action from her life, somewhere out in the galaxy avoiding her.
Vader, she pleaded, the fear growing within her belly as she tried to reach out to him through their bond. Where are you?
Three more days passed without a word, and the mixture of feelings and suspicions that Padmé had warring inside of her, grew each and every day. She knew something was wrong, but was unable to process that, or any of her feelings. It all seemed too much like a dream– too surreal. She wanted to tell Vader of her suspicions but didn't have the slightest clue of how– Not without telling him everything… and she wasn't ready to do that. She didn't want to tell Vader, but even if she did, she couldn't. Since there was absolutely no sign of Darth Vader anywhere: not in his establishments, not on reports on the HoloNet, and not even by 3PO. The Sith seemed to have disappeared without a trace – almost like before he had revealed himself– when he was a shadow, and although that wasn't at all comforting, Padmé's question was: Would he ever come back?
It was a silly thought, one she knew was ridiculous, but still a small voice in the back of her mind told her it was possible, possible that he may never return. Why would he? He wanted to rid himself of her, and now was his chance. There was obviously something happening around her, something she could not understand, but maybe it had everything to do with Darth Vader. Maybe this was her end. Maybe this had always been the plan.
Letting out a long sigh, Padmé pulled at her long curls and twisted them behind her shoulder. She could practically feel insanity breathing down her neck, and it was severely unpleasant. Needing to calm her nerves, Padmé decided to walk around Vader's establishments, moping around every corner and getting lost within the never ending halls. She didn't have a finally goal in mind, besides to free herself of her overthinking mind. She had every intention of returning to her room, but surprised even herself when she found herself back within the cavern of the beast: in Vader's bedroom.
Unable to help herself, she cautiously entered the darkness of the room, remembering the last time she had been there: A time when she had felt empowered– invincible, until Vader had backed her into a corner and decided to play a game with her. Closing her eyes, she could see the scene play out perfectly in her mind, and she couldn't help but laugh– laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. How had all of this happened?
She laughed until her laughs turned into cries, because, Force, she missed him. She didn't know if it was because of her feelings, or her rough week, or some other unknown factor, but she didn't care, because she missed him. Closing her eyes, she breathed in his scent that lathered the room, the scent she had come to love and as it reached her nose, she wallowed in it. She wanted more, and if she couldn't have him, she knew what she could settle for.
Driven by madness, Padmé's attention turned towards his bed, the domain of black sheeted blankets and pillows. For some reason, something pressed her towards it– something willed her to do as she pleased. She was hardly thinking then, another force taking over her body as she made up her mind. She crossed the room, checking her surrounding as she did, deciding that the coast was clear, before hopping into the sea of blackness. She lay there engulfed within his scent for what felt like seconds, no length of time being long enough, before she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She couldn't explain it, but the days and nights of worrying seemed to all be but forgotten as a sort of calmness came over her making her not want to leave. She didn't plan on sleeping the night in Vader's bed, and she also didn't want to, but as she tried to push herself up from the mattress, she found herself being buried farther and farther within it. She had no escape, and as she breathed deeper and deeper into the darkness, she fell farther into it.
She was pulled from her slumber sometime later when she felt her body rise from the mattress, just barely, but enough to pull her from such a gentle sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, still between a state of consciousness and unconsciousness. What? Her mind was in a state of confusion, but only for a moment. The haze hardly cleared, but then she felt strong arms around her– gloved hands and a layered body moving her across the mattress, their own unmistakable: Darth Vader. It was a pleasant surprise, and she relaxed all but for a moment… before she remembered the rest of the story– about how she was in his room, very much uninvited.
"Vader," she realized within her sleepy-state of shock, pushing up from his bed in a state of terror and embarrassment, while she tried to pull away from his encasing arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't know– I didn't mean–"
"You're falling off the bed."
She paused, stunned, realizing his voice held no anger– not to mention his statement was by far the one she had expected. "You're falling off the bed?" That was it? He wasn't angry with her? He wasn't upset that she was in his room without permission– in his bed without permission?
When she did not respond, his grip tightened around her, and he finished the task of moving her farther onto the mattress. When she was situated correctly, his hands were gone in the matter of seconds, pulling himself away so that he could stand at the side of the bed a far distance away from her.
Padmé eyed him suspiciously in the darkness, his dark hood and stature giving nothing away. She still couldn't believe that he wasn't the slightest bit upset, especially with how they had ended things before. "You," she began cautiously, almost in a state of shock. "You aren't mad?"
He seemed puzzled–taken back. "No?" he answered, his voice almost holding a question as he tilted his head the tiniest motion to the right like a confused child.
She would have laughed if she hadn't been so confused. Oh, Vader. She had almost forgotten his lack of knowledge with basic humans, and how he was unable to understand the simplest of interactions and emotions. He obviously didn't understand that after fights, people– Dare she say, couples; were known to have bitterness towards each other. Not only that, but also the fact that he had seemingly forgot, that she was still his prisoner– a prisoner that had walked uninvited into his personal bedroom– And he wasn't the slightest bit upset?
"I thought–" she tried to explain, but failed to find words, her sentences leaving her lips as non-cohesive jumbles and stutters. "–I mean– Why wouldn't –Umm… Why are you here?"
His confusion was even more obvious now– or maybe only because she understood him better– but the Sith seemed flustered then, his body twitching slightly in the darkness, unable to understand her question. "It's my room, Senator," he answered obviously, trying to hide his uncertainty within his darkness. "Why wouldn't I be in here?"
"No," Padmé said, shaking her head and choosing more specific words. "I mean… Where have you been? You haven't been here. I didn't know when– or if you'd be back."
His shoulders locked immediately, almost defensively– or nervously, before he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "I had a mission," he answered quickly, obviously denying her of the details. "But I received news that you were escorted back to the Medical Center, so I returned."
She paused, not expecting that particular answer. Still, an unexpected bitterness rose within her chest, and she couldn't stop herself from raising an arrogant eyebrow in his direction. "Oh," she mocked. "And you care?"
He was silent, but this time, not like usual– not like an arrogant, angered Sith Lord that was fighting the urge to kill her. It was far worse than that– far more unexpected than that. His emotions were broadcasted immediately after her question, certain ones unknown or undistinguishable, but his mixture of confusion and panic were nearly tangible in the air, and because of it, Padmé regretted her choice of anger towards him. After all, he had no idea what she had gone through, and she knew he did care… in his own way– Right?
"I– My ribs were hurting," Padmé finally spoke, putting Vader out of his misery, as she made sure not to lie, but also sure to avoid telling the complete truth. "And the doctor said to return immediately if the pain worsened, just in case there were internal injuries that she missed."
"I should have healed any of that," he said calmly, a certain amount of doubt within his voice.
Kriff.
She fought against her body's instincts, not allowing her heart to beat any faster than the pace that it was already racing. She didn't need Vader picking up on anything more–figuring out her lies. Breathing deeply, she calmed her panic state, and turned back to him with a sort of tranquility.
"I– I just wanted to be sure," she forced, trying to channel her nerves to other matters.
She didn't know if he believed her, but she felt his eyes on her then, skimming her body, not in the sexual manner, but as if looking for injuries– or so she thought. Self consciously, she pulled the covers around her body, wrapping herself within Vader's bed, suddenly feeling very small and exposed under his eyes. As she hid herself away, she felt Vader's anger begin to boil, the heat rising from his body and nearly burning her skin from where she hid her body under beneath the covers.
"I hear Campton paid you a visit," he finally spoke, his voice dark and vexed, forcing Padmé to look away for reasons not even she understood. "A close visit."
Of course, he would hear about that.
"He did," she answered honestly, now being the one who was confused, but also concerned. So what if he did? Did it really matter? And if it did, what was the point? Did Vader know Palo was helping the Rebellion? Or was the Sith's question touching the lines of something more personal?
"Hmm…" was his only reply, and it made Padmé's eyes return to him, silently asking for more, but he said nothing. He remained silent, unmoving beside the bed, as if waiting for her to answer– but Padmé didn't know what to say.
The silence stretched out for what felt like forever, and just when it seemed like the stillness was about to shatter, he did the unexpected and began to walk away.
The sight of his exiting form made Padmé's heart freeze within her chest, and a sickness roll into her belly. No! She wanted nothing more than to stop him, and with a rash mind, she panicked. "Why don't you join me?" she called, her voice shaken and lacking confidence, but still managing to make him paused.
He stopped just as he reached the doorway, his head slowly turning back to her. "I was under the impression I was not wanted."
Padmé raised an eyebrow at him, trying to lighten the mood by teasing him– a small, gentle mock. "Wasn't that an invite?"
"Was it?"
Oh, Vader.
She nodded, offering him a small smile. "Yes."
He hesitated after her answer, not moving from his spot in the doorway, as if waiting for her to withdrawal her offer– as if her invite was a sort of joke. When she realized this, she couldn't help but to roll her eyes at him, at his uncertainty, before slowly patting the spot beside her in an attempt to draw him in.
Thankfully, the beckoning worked, and he crossed the room in three quick steps before joining her in his bed. He settled himself onto the open side, and as he did, Padmé smiled. She moved closer to him when he finally laid down, pushing herself into his chest and breathing in his sweet scent while his arms wrapped around her. They laid there in perfect bliss for what seemed like hours, until Padmé looked up at him, remembering the man that was beneath. She wanted to see him– really see him.
"Why don't you get comfortable?" she pressed, trying to sound as soft and innocent as humanly possible without giving away her secret motive. "It's your room after all."
She thought perhaps he wouldn't understand her hint, but he didn't physically react to her words, making her realize he knew exactly what she was talking about.
"No, Senator." he replied, his voice dark, and final– Maybe.
She snuggled closer into him, fluttering her eyes. "Please?"
"No."
Did he always have to be so difficult?
"Why?" she frowned, trying to justify herself. "Why won't you let me see you? I already did."
He wasn't amused by her point, his voice turning bitter. "That was never supposed to happen."
"None of this was," Padme equipped, not planning on losing her battle. "But we continue to do this. So why don't you –"
"I said no, Senator!"
"Why?" she pressed again.
He sighed loudly, shifting closer to her with a sort of hidden emotion. "You heard what my master said."
"Handsome isn't he, Senator?" Palpatine laughed, eyeing the Sith that stood motionless beside him. "It's why I keep his face away from preying eyes. He would become quite the catch, and not in the way I want. Don't get too attached though, he won't have it for much longer." Palpatine smiled, a far more evil and devilish smile than before. "Isn't that right, Lord Vader?
Padmé's frown hardened. She remembered, but she didn't understand. "And," she asked. "What exactly does that mean?"
"You're a smart girl," he snapped, his annoyance steaming. "Figure it out."
"Come on," Padmé exclaimed, rolling her body to look up at him again. "Can't I be curious about what you look like underneath the hood? You've seen me. What's the big secret?"
"There is not point, Senator." Vader replied, his voice void and angry. "Because soon you'll wonder who is the man underneath the mask."
The memory flashed within her mind, before she could even accept his challenge, shocking even herself. She eyed him suspiciously then, moving just far enough a way to look into the darkness of his hood. "Does this have anything to do with the mask thing?" she asked cautiously, and instantly felt his whole body tighten.
"Senator," he warned, but Padmé only shrugged innocently.
"I'm just trying to be a smart girl," she replied smartly, copying his arrogant and annoyed tone perfectly. "And trying to figure it out."
His mood snapped then, his head snapping in her direction. "Now you are testing my patience!" he hissed angrily, and for some reason his words bit at her.
She quit her advancements as quickly as she had begun them, turning her eyes away from him, and moving a fragment of the way back so that she was still within his reach but no longer touching. She didn't know why, but his words hurt, but she knew they shouldn't. He had said and done far worse things to her before, and this should not have been any different. But then, why did it feel so different? She tired to tell herself it was just because of her wild, unchecked emotions, because of the excitement and craziness of the week, but she couldn't shake the strange feeling. The feeling of not being upset because of his harsh words, but upset because of the meaning behind them– the actions behind them. He refused to show her himself, but then why must she do the same for him? After everything she had put him through– although he didn't know– didn't she deserve to at least be able to see him? Didn't she deserve to feel more like partner instead of a plaything? She did, but she didn't feel it, and because of that, bitterness and anger rose within her chest, the feeling of being used surfacing once again.
Vader's lips touched her forehead, bringing Padmé out of her thoughts and back to the current situation. She pulled away from his kiss, jerking her head and body back swiftly as if he had stung her. "I thought you were angry," she growled.
"I can be angry and still kiss you," Vader replied, acting as if he wasn't taken back by her behavior before he moved his body to be closer to her.
"W–Well," she stumbled, her fear chocking her as she realized the predicament she was about to be in. That Vader was kissing her and silently asking for sex– sex that she could not give him because of her pain and fear towards their nonexistence child and her lack of birth control. "I'm– I'm angry."
"I'm well aware," he replied, almost amused as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly into his chest.
She accepted the embrace before her nerves got the better of her, making her panic due their closeness. "Well," she stumbled again, trying to push away from his chest and break away from his grasp. "Unlike you I can't have sex with you when I'm angry."
He seemed puzzled and annoyed, not allowing her out of his arms. "Senator."
"I know we've done it before," she continued, understanding his annoyance as she proceeded to struggle. "But now it's different– I'm different– You're different." She broke free of his grasp, quickly rolling over to face away from him, making sure he understood her anger. "How about you go have sex with one of your soldiers–" she said bitterly. "Or the Emperor– someone that you allow to see you face."
"Senator!" he yelled, his voice not filled with anger, but rather with need to get her attention.
"I'm not having sex with you," she stated again, her voice confident and professional.
Vader groaned from beside her, his voice turning serious. "I did not mean to make an advancement."
"Oh…" she paled, her entire routine falling apart as she lost her leverage, which she quickly and successfully played off. "Well, I'm just saying."
The room fell silent for a moment, before she felt Vader turn away from her as well, their backs facing each other. "I didn't know seeing my face would cause this reaction," he announced, sounding more like he was speaking his thoughts than actually speaking to her. "I was under the impression that when people find each other mutually attractive they do want to sleep with each other, and not the other way around."
All at once her anger lifted, and Padmé smiled at his words, looking over her shoulder. "You find me attractive?" her voice beamed, not meaning to convey as much happiness as she did.
Vader snorted in response– a very uncharacteristic like snort.
Padmé's smile deepened. He did find her attractive! And although her heart raced because of it, she fought with all her power to control it– to not be affected by it, but she was. "Well," she began, trying to act as if the confession wasn't a big deal to her racing heart. "I mean– Yeah, but I never said you were attractive."
Her statement was a tease of course, one that she hoped would lighten the mood– if Vader understood it– And if he didn't, it would worsen the mood entirely. She silently prayed for the first option.
He turned to her slowly in response, making her nervous at first, but allowing her time to process his comeback. Which eventually she did do, although Padmé could not see his eyes beneath the hood, she could feel the look he was giving her: the 'Oh, please, I'm always right' kind of look. The smug bastard. "Well, not out loud…" he stated arrogantly, but Padmé could hear the humor and smile within his voice.
Letting out a laugh, she completely turned her body around so that she was able to slap him. She hit him playfully over the chest, before she found herself back within Vader's arms. The playfulness allowed the air to clear between them, and in return, allowed the needed communication to continue.
"I… I just hurt," Padmé eventually said, after the excitement had calmed and she found herself with her back to Vader's chest and his hands within her own. "The explosion really took a lot out of me."
Vader titled his head down to her almost alarmed that her confession was that simple. "And you couldn't just say that?"
She turned her face away from his gaze, even admitting to herself that it sounded silly. I thought…" she confessed lowly, not sure how he would react. "I thought you would be mad if I didn't want to have sex."
Vader's arms tightened around her, and he placed a soft kiss on her temple. "Just like I would be angry that you're in my bed." He paused, a small laugh escaping his lips. "It was quite the surprise actually, changing things up. I could get used to it."
"Wait…" Padmé breathed, turning her face so that she could look into the darkness of his hood. "You're allowing me to stay…" she asked, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Even though I won't have sex with you, you'll let me–"
"You make me sound terrible," Vader replied, his voice filled with exhaustion, as his head fell down beside her own.
Padmé shook her head in disbelief. "I just never thought that–"
"Senator," he breathed, a clear threat within his voice. "Since it is a rare occasion in which I appreciate your company– I would not ruin this."
Padmé smiled at his threat, deciding to listen to his words than press his limits any further. Finally settling down, she held onto his arms tightly, snuggling into his chest and feeling his body move forward as if cuddling back. Of course they had laid together before, but not like this. Now he was lying with her without expecting anything, not because they had sex or because she had a nightmare– just because they wanted to. The thought made her smile, for a moment her panic gone, and for the first time remembering her elder's sister's words: "Remember, Pad. If a boy only screws, he isn't worth your time. You want someone that will lay with you even if you aren't putting out. He will snuggle in bed with you just for the hell of it.
She tried to hold in her giggle, for the first time feeling like a normal young adult, as she grabbed onto his hands and pulled them to her chest. "Am I snuggling with a Sith Lord?" she mused, not expecting him to respond, but jumping giddily as he held her tighter, suddenly gripping her gown.
"No," he said simply, sleepily even. "You're being detained."
"Oh," she smiled with a small laugh, closing her eyes and embracing the way his body formed against hers. "On what grounds?"
"Breaking and entering."
"Hmm..." she hummed with a smile, kissing each one of his long, gloved fingers. "What's my sentence?"
He held her even tighter then, causing a small yelp to escape Padmé's lips as her head hit his chest and his leg slipped over to capture her own. "Life," he breathed into her ear, and Padmé shivered in delight, slowly and gently falling to sleep with the wildest grin across her face– but peaceful sleep never came.
She was lost. She didn't know where she was, besides that she was in a place where she was unwelcomed– a place where she did not belong. This planet was a place of orange and red, filled with fire, lava, and smoke. It was an unwelcoming place, but was not the reason that she felt unwelcomed. She felt unwelcomed because this place was not her own, because she was invading something she was not suppose to… but how? Why? Where exactly was she, and why was she there?
"…Senator?"
Padmé turned upon hearing his voice, the vision of red and orange forming into a hill of black in which he stood. "Vader!" she yelled relieved, running towards him and hugging him tightly. "I was so afraid! What is happening? Where are we?"
"Senator?" he repeated in disbelief, his voice unsteady, as if in a daze, causing Padmé to release him and look up at him in concern. "Senator, what are you doing here?"
She shook her head, looking around frantically for some sort of explanation. "I don't know," she answered, her mind frazzled. "I don't even know where here is."
He seemed to know the answer, but did not offer any sort of clarity. Instead, he stepped away from her, almost seeming angry. "You shouldn't be here," he said, shaking his head. "Leave." That was his simple command, before turning and walking away from her, leaving her frozen in the sand.
She tried to follow him, but could only watch in horror as he disappeared and was replaced by the mangled body of a broken man, falling and screaming as he tumbled down the bank. She wanted– she tried to move, but was unable to do so. She was frozen to the ground– melted to the ground beneath her feet. She was forced to watch in complete shock, terror, and horror as the body of a man slipped down the black-sanded bank, closer and closer to the lava river.
That's when the screams began, the screams of pain– of agony– of torture. He tried desperately to pull himself away from the molten river, but with only one hand and a crumbling surface, he was unable to do so. She watched as the man caught fire, and began to burn– burn when he was very, very much alive. She closed her eyes as she listened to his torture, his screams of pain as he burned to death, and only when all turned quiet, did she manage to open her eyes. But the man was still there– still alive, and still burning.
The scene shifted, however, the fire slowly burning out, and a much different man– if it was a man, left underneath the rubble. Slowly, unsteadily, the black creature began to move, a loud mechanical breathing beginning to sound, sending chills up Padmé's spine. At the sight of this creature, she wanted nothing more than to run and hide, but she was forced to stay still and watch. She watched as the creature stood, it towering to a height that was over two meters tall, and unlike a monster Padmé had ever seen.
That's when the creature spotted her, much to Padmé's horror, walking his way powerfully up the hill with his cape flowing darkly behind him. Padmé paled as he paused before her, unsure of anything besides her fear. The darkness and anger of the creature was overwhelming, and as she looked into his masked face, all she saw was death. But death never came, and as he looked upon her, Padmé wondered: What in fact, was this creature, and where had he come from?
"I said to leave," his mechanical voice boomed … but the statement had caused her fear to evaporate, replaced with far different emotions; her eyes widening as she looked into the creature's– horror filling her vision and a pain aching within her heart.
No! It couldn't be.
"Vader?"
Waking from the nightmare, she lunged herself forward and breathed roughly, panting against the pain and fear that was evident in her chest. What the hell was that? She didn't know, but she knew that it scared her, and pained her far greater than anything she had seen before. She could still hear the screams, feel the burning and the agony, and see the monster wearing a mask– Wait. Mask. Slowly, she looked to her right and for the first time realized that Vader had shot up as well with what sounded like the same reaction– except less bewildered. Unlike herself, he seemed pained, but calm, like he had seen it all before.
"What–" she asked, chocking on her words as the pain resurfaced within her chest. "What was that?"
He looked towards her slowly, as if for the first time remembering that she was beside him before realizing her bewildered state. He said nothing, but Padmé could hear him take a large intake of air before he turned away from her. He lifted his hands to underneath his hood before he rubbed beneath the fabric in frustration , and as he did, Padmé could imagine him pushing back his long locks that she knew were beneath.
"It's none of your concern," he stated simply, almost sounding as if he was trying to sound like his usual intimidating persona but unable to find the energy to do so.
Padmé took his exhaustion to her advantage, not willing to take no as an answer. "That was the mask, right?" she pressed, trying to understand the pieces of the puzzle. "That's what you and Palpatine have been talking about?"
She seemed to have pressed another limit, because the temperature of room dropped yet again, his mood shattering with his dream. His head snapped towards her, his anger tangible and a warning on his lips. "Do not get involved, Senator."
Do not get involved? Involved?
Involved. Padmé laughed before she could stop herself, the mix of emotions battling inside her once again. "Involved?" she laughed, the word sounding ridiculous. "Involved?" Was that some sort of joke? "Don't you think I'm already a bit, involved?"
He paused for a moment, as if taking in her sentence, truly dwelling on the words before he shook his head wildly. "No," he answered, before his voice deepened and gained confidence. "No, you're not."
"I'm not?" Padmé repeated, testing the words before feeling her anger grow. "I'm not involved," she repeated again, laughing as she did, before turning to him bitterly. "I don't know how many women you've had, Lord Vader. Or whether or not you have cared for any of them throughout your entire existence, but you took my virginity. Not only that, but we are still having sex, which means you're involved with me. So that means, I'm involved in this. Involved."
He seemed well past frustrated as he shook his head before looking towards her with pure anger. "Don't twist my words, Senator!" he yelled, pointing a warning gloved finger in her direction. "I already tolerate too much of your foolishness! I don't need you within my mind, twisting things around in the way that you see fit!" A disgusted growl escaped from his chest as he pushed up from the bed, and headed towards the door, making his ill-temper known. He was about to make his exit, but not before Padmé attempted to stop him.
"Vader!" she panicked, upon seeing his escaping figure and remembering what had happened the last time they argued. She pushed up from the mattress and scurried across the floor, nearly sliding into him as he paused in the doorway. "Vader!"
As she collided into his body, she wrapped her delicate fingers around his belt, pushing her body into his own in an attempt to stop him. She didn't care how ridiculous it all seemed, but she couldn't afford for him to leave– for her to lose him. Not right now. Not after everything that had happened.
Please, she begged silently as she pressed her face into his chest. Please don't go. Not again. Not right now.
He heard her thoughts perfectly as usual, not replying to them directly, but responding through his body language. As she continued to nuzzle into him, uncharacteristically, his hand rose to rest upon her back, rubbing small circles of comfort.
"I'll be back, Senator," he whispered, his voice regaining its softness as he pulled his body away from her own.
Padmé allowed him to retreat, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked upon him before her. "Where are you going?"
He regained his usual demeanor, his body locking into place, the man replaced by a strong, powerful Sith Lord. "I have a job to finish," he replied. "I'll be back."
"But–" Padmé breathed, almost not believing his words. "But, you just got here."
He shook his head, gesturing to her as he spoke. "I was merely coming to check on you."
"And…" she began slowly, almost insulted, but secretly pressing for something more. "You had to check up on me by joining me in bed?
Her tone pushed his limits, his body locking defensively and the temperature of the room dropping. "You forget you are in my room, Senator," he said darkly. "I came to check on you, and I planned on getting some rest. I just completed two things at once."
"So…" she said slowly, pressing him for what she wanted. "That was just part of your checklist?"
He hesitated, catching onto her game. "Whatever you want me to say, Senator. I promise you, I won't say it."
She shrugged defensively, "I don't want–"
But her didn't want to hear her lies. He took a step forward, not allowing Padmé to finish her explanation as he pointed a glove finger in my face, waving it like she was a troubled child. "I am making this clear to you. Nothing has changed."
His comment pushed her own anger, not breaking her into submission, but causing her to fight back. "Oh," she asked, a sarcastic smile on her face as she raised an eyebrow. "So I am just a quick fuck?"
He stared at her, but didn't reply, staying motionless as a hidden emotion passed over him– an emotion that she might have been able to decipher, if he hadn't pushed her limits.
"Oh," she breathed angrily, throwing her hands into the air as she nodded, before beginning to walk away. "I see how it is."
Vader shook his head, bringing his hand up to brush underneath the hood. "Senator," he said, sounding exhausted. "Please don't–"
"You know what?" Padmé growled, not wanting to hear anything he had to say. "I don't know why I even missed you!"
"Sen–"
"I meant what I said!" Padmé screamed, not allowing him to finish as she motioned to the door. "Go fuck someone that you allow to see you! That you feel is worthy of you! That you actually allow in!" She paused, brushing her hands through her hair, laughing painfully as she did. "You know," she laughed. "You might not have raped me, Vader, but even you have to comprehend how unfair this relatin– whatever this is, is! I mean, always blindfolded and naked for you? You don't see a problem with that? Well, that's over. It's all over."
"S–"
"No," she shook her head, cutting him off again. "I'm done, Vader! Done! I'm not sleeping with you! I'm not trying to understand you! I'm not going to beg for you to let me in!" She neared him again as she screamed, making sure he understood the seriousness of her words. "I don't think you do understand how wrong this is! How much like shit I feel like. We can't go on like this, and until you make that step to change, this is over!"
Vader rubbed his hand beneath his hood again, taking a deep breath. "We–I," he stuttered, for the first time allowing his frustration to get the better of him.
"Just go, Vader." Padmé snapped, turning back and walking towards the bed. "Leave. It's what your best at."
Vader watched her crawl into the bed, his thoughts clearing and his emotions beginning to wage war. "That's my bed, Senator."
"I'm well aware," Padmé answered without missing a beat, wrapping herself within the covers and becoming completely comfortable as she closed her eyes against his pillow. "And I'm throwing you out of it." Vader didn't move, and because of his lack of movement, Padmé opened her eyes once more, looking at him with a stone-cold glare. "You know my rules, and you'll know where to find me."
Author's Note: I honestly don't know what's wrong with me, and why exactly I think this chapter is so bad, but I uploaded it anyways after editing like a madman. (I still hate it lol) So please, write a review. On another note, thanks for your patience and support because it means the world. Love you, lovelies!
PS: Can't wait for Rogue One tonight!
And SPOILER: A certain someone might be losing some layers… If you know what I mean ;)