Chapter 20 – Recondite

Anakin was asleep. Padmé sat at her husband's feet, a hand on his thigh, the other delicately stroking the fabric of her dress. Sola had given it to her. It was simple yet elegant. Grey cloth, soft velvet, a pleated skirt which pooled on the floor around her folded legs.

It was late at night. She should be sleeping, but she couldn't. Not when the blaster fire still rang in her ears, and the images of murdered children flashed before her eyes.

She looked to her right. A figure was seated under the viewport, backlit by the bright lights of the Coruscant skyline. She looked small, knees tucked into her chest, head bowed.

"Ahsoka," Padmé said.

The girl looked at her. She said nothing

"I'm sorry."

Padmé couldn't see her reaction. Was she incredulous? Furious? Or perhaps resigned. Empty. Defeated.

For some reason, she felt the need to explain herself.

"I didn't ask for any of this to happen."

Ahsoka looked away.

"I never wanted violence. This was my master's doing. He is responsible for everything."

Who was she trying to convince, anyway? Ahsoka wasn't listening. What was the point?

"It's not my fault," she said. "It's not."

But Padmé didn't believe it.

Not in the slightest.

Δ Δ Δ

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because Padmé suddenly found herself roused by a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Padmé. Wake up."

She turned groggily to the voice. A crick in her neck made itself known as she did. Padmé groaned.

"Padmé."

She knew that voice. Usually it was softer. More loving.

"Anakin?"

She blinked her eyes into focus. Her husband leaned over her, metal hand grasping her shoulder. Padmé squirmed out of his grip.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Early afternoon."

That got her attention. Had she really slept the entire morning away?

"There's someone here to see you."

Frowning, Padmé looked beyond him. And gasped.

"Master!"

Anakin stepped aside. Padmé jerked upright as Palpatine approached.

"Padmé," he said, his voice warm and his smile bright. "Are you well?"

Fear intermingled with relief. She wanted both to run away and to hug him in equal measure. As a compromise, she attempted to stand, but Palpatine stopped her.

"No," he said, a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Sit, my dear."

"Uh… okay," Padmé said, feeling rather foolish. Her eyes darted to Anakin who stood in the corner, arms folded.

She looked back at Palpatine. He was smiling, but his face looked haggard; black and purple rings circled his sunken eyes, caked blood encrusted his upper lip. Padmé reached to touch a bruise on his cheekbone.

"What happened with Windu?" she asked.

"I defeated him," Palpatine said, "with difficulty."

"He's dead?" Padmé asked.

"He is."

Padmé shuddered with relief. Her tormentor was gone.

"You saved us," Padmé said.

"Of course I did." The smile slipped from his face. "You were loyal."

Padmé gulped. "Yes, Master."

"Do not waver, my dear." He stepped away. Padmé's hand dropped from his cheek. "Nor you, my friend," he said, turning to Anakin. "I have one more task for you."

Anakin's jaw tightened. "I will do as you ask," he said.

"Good. Very good." Palpatine walked to him. "The Separatist leaders are assembled on the Mustafar system. You must go there and end this war."

"You mean… kill them?"

"Do you have a problem with that, Lord Vader?"

Padmé felt herself stiffen at the name.

"No, Master," Anakin said, yet his hesitation was not missed by Palpatine. Nor by Padmé, who intervened before Palpatine could reproach.

"Do it, Anakin," Padmé said. "It's the only way this war will end."

"With blood," Anakin said.

"All things end with blood," Palpatine said. "The only question is how much."

Anakin bowed his head. He seemed unable to speak.

"Can I trust you?" Palpatine asked. His voice infused a chill to the room.

"Yes, Master," Anakin said with a shiver.

"Good." Palpatine turned. "Now go."

Anakin looked at Padmé. She nodded. This is for the best, she wanted to tell him. This is how it must be. Trust me.

Trust me.

Only a fool would do such a thing.

Nonetheless, Anakin left. He knew better, certainly. He did not want to commit another massacre. But he had no choice. Padmé and Palpatine had taken away his agency.

The door sealed shut behind him and he was gone. Almost immediately, Palpatine's knees buckled.

"Master!" Padmé cried as he tumbled. She leapt out of her chair and caught him, or rather slowed his fall. "Master, are you all right?"

"Alive," Palpatine said. "That is all that matters." With Padmé's assistance, he returned to his feet.

"Sit," Padmé demanded. This time Palpatine did not demur. "You're too good at pretending for your own good," she told him.

Palpatine chuckled feebly. "When one always wears the mask," he said, "he forgets to take it off."

"You didn't forget," Padmé said. "You can't show weakness to Anakin. You're afraid he'll turn on you."

"Astute of you to realize."

"Yet you don't fear me in the same way."

"Fear you? How could I?"

Padmé hesitated. She could prove him wrong. Strike him down right now. Use his own lightsaber, in fact. He was so weak.

She couldn't possibly.

"You deceived me," Padmé said.

"Yes," Palpatine said.

"I was your pawn all along."

"Everyone is a pawn to me, Padmé. You know this."

"Yes. I suppose I do."

Or did she? Was that really all she was to him?

"I tried to betray you."

"Such is the way of the Sith."

"But I am not a Sith. Not really."

"No," Palpatine agreed. "I did not let you become one."

Padmé blinked. What did that mean?

"We have work to do," Palpatine said.

"What sort of work?"

"If you would be so kind."

Padmé helped the old man to his feet. He leaned against her until they reached the door. When it opened and they stepped into the foyer, Palpatine's façade of strength returned. Everyone in the apartment had assembled there.

"I thank you for accommodating me," he said, shaking Sola and Darred's hands. "And for tending to General Skywalker and Senator Amidala. The Empire is grateful for your service."

"Thank you," Darred said, dry-mouthed.

"Ah, Ahsoka Tano," Palpatine said. "You are here as well."

Ahsoka shied away from him.

"A Jedi, you are no longer. But a friend of the Empire, that makes you not." Palpatine considered. "Padmé?" he invited.

"You can trust her," Padmé said. "Ahsoka will be loyal to the Empire. Won't you, Ahsoka?"

"I… I will."

"How reassuring," Palpatine said coolly. He raised a menacing finger. "Remember who the enemy is, Ahsoka Tano. Remember who it was who had you unlawfully imprisoned. And remember who it was who had you rescued."

"I will not forget it," Ahsoka said.

Palpatine nodded. "You would do well not to."

Padmé stepped forward, hoping to defuse the tension. "Would you stay here with the children?" she asked Ahsoka. "Or better yet, could you take them to my apartment?"

"I, um… I guess so."

"I can help," Sola chimed in.

"You don't have to," Padmé said. "Really, you've done so much as is."

"It's no worry," Sola said. "Besides, Ahsoka is going to need a ride to get there. I'm happy to help in any way I can."

For the umpteenth time, Padmé was in awe of her sister's selflessness. In contrast to Palpatine, it was especially striking. There was no quid pro quo with Sola. She acted out of compassion, with love. There was no manipulation, no deception or extortion.

Padmé couldn't understand it. Yet she appreciated it all the same.

"Thank you, Sola," she said. "Truly."

"Of course," Sola said.

Padmé felt a hand on her shoulder. Palpatine.

"We must be going," he said. "The Senator and I have some matters to which we must attend. Thank you all for your hospitality."

He spun Padmé around and made to leave, a pair of blue-robed guards at their flanks to escort them, but a stern voice stopped them.

"Sifo-Dyas."

Padmé looked over her shoulder. It was Ruwee, standing down the hallway, hands on his hips. Jobal was at his side, looking nervous.

"I beg your pardon?" Palpatine said, turning.

"I remember you," Ruwee said. "You're the one who claimed to be a Jedi. You're the one who stole our daughter."

Palpatine's lip curled. "She never belonged to you," he bit out. "Had I not taken her, the Jedi would have. Be grateful that she is on the victorious side."

Ruwee swelled with anger. He tried to step forward, but Jobal grabbed his arm, like an anchor. Padmé did the same with Palpatine.

"Don't," she hissed. "Please. Just walk away."

Padmé felt Palpatine's tension slacken. He released an indignant breath.

"Very well," he said. "For you."

With that, he left. Padmé remained behind. She looked at Ruwee.

"Don't," she warned.

Ruwee said nothing. His face was red, eyes searing. Jobal chewed on her lip. Sola and Darred traded looks. Ahsoka stared at the floor.

They were afraid. Of Palpatine. Of Padmé. One and the same?

Padmé dared not dwell on it further.

Palpatine was waiting in the back seat of an armored speeder. He had taken the mask off again. He was slouching against the padded seat, eyes closed and fingers digging into his thigh.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Padmé asked him. She was surprised by how concerned she sounded.

"Fine," Palpatine said curtly. "Driver!"

The speeder took off.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the Temple."

Padmé felt herself go cold.

"No."

Palpatine gave her a look. "No?"

"I mean, I don't…. I can't –"

"Rest easy, my child," Palpatine assured. "You will not see any… carnage."

Padmé swallowed hard.

"You never liked to see it, did you?"

"No," she said. "I never did."

"I know you, Padmé. Better than anyone. Better than that man, surely." He spat out that last clause. That man. Ruwee, she supposed.

"You do, Master," Padmé said. Because you created me, molded me in your vision.

Yet if he had done that, Padmé would not be feeling qualms right now. If she truly were his protégé, she would have no problem with violence, for Palpatine himself relished it. Yet she did have a problem with it. She had always feared it, ever since she was a child. Palpatine had accommodated her. He had never forced her to become someone she didn't want to be. He had only ever trained her because Padmé begged him to do so.

Why?

He certainly never treated his other students in this way. Not Maul, not Dooku. He likely wouldn't treat Anakin (or rather, Vader) in such an accommodating way either. What made her any different?

The answer was obvious. Although it was thoroughly incomprehensible.

He cared about her.

A Sith wasn't supposed to care about others. He only cared about himself, about his own ambitions. Reliance on others was a weakness.

Perhaps in that sense the Sith and Jedi were two sides of the same coin. The former were not supposed to love anyone. The latter were supposed to love everyone equally. Yet as Anakin found out, in practice that meant he could never truly love anyone at all. These two religions were so rigid, so inhuman. Padmé hated them both. Doctrine and dogma; it would be their downfall.

As they pulled up to the temple, Padmé began to tremble. She couldn't help it. The images returned, bodies piled up, charred, rivulets of blood. Carnage, as Palpatine called it. Hell, as Padmé knew it.

They stepped out of the vehicle. Palpatine held her arm firmly, in part to stabilize himself, in part to stabilize her. They were mutually reinforcing in that way.

Up the front steps they went. Clones lined the path on either side, weapons held to their chests. Padmé craned her head. Pillars of black smoke billowed from the spires. The air was acrid, causing her eyes to water.

"Emperor Palpatine, sir." A clone commander at the top of the steps was there to greet them. "The Temple is secure. The premises have been fully swept. No Jedi remain. We found a few booby traps, but they have been identified and disarmed."

"Well done, Commander," Palpatine said. "Most efficient work."

"Thank you, sir."

"Senator Amidala and I have a matter to which we must attend within the Temple." He raised a hand before the commander could interject. "There is no need for an escort."

"If you say so, sir."

They entered the Temple. As Palpatine had promised, the place had been cleared of bodies, as if washed away by the tide. But Padmé saw them all the same, projected from her memory. Children strewn on the floors, riddled with blaster marks, glassy eyes staring at the ceiling. Her grip on Palpatine's arm tightened.

"Do you feel it, Padmé?" her master said.

"Feel what?"

"The darkness. It is resurgent."

She did feel it, surrounding her, within her. The dark side of the Force had never been stronger.

It terrified her.

"What cruelty is this?" Palpatine snarled. "I have never been more powerful, yet never felt so weak." He shook his head. "Blasted Windu."

"You will recover," Padmé said.

"If given the chance."

"The chance? By whom?"

"The Jedi are not yet defeated, my dear."

"What do you mean? They're all dead, aren't they?"

"Hardly."

"Who remains?"

"I cannot know for certain. But I sense them still. They will strike back, I am sure of it."

"They will fail."

"Only if we are ready."

They carried on, footsteps loud in the vaulted hallway. After some twists and turns, they arrived in a massive library. These must be the famed Jedi Archives. Shelves stretched to the ceilings, stocked full with bright blue holobooks.

"Why are we here, Master?" Padmé asked.

"To learn."

"Learn what?"

"The secrets of the enemy."

"What sort of secrets?"

Palpatine did not elaborate. They reached the end of the corridor where a massive set of double doors stood in their way. Releasing her, Palpatine stepped forward and raised his hand. He traced the wrought iron pattern on the wood.

"Ah," he said. "Ingenious."

"What is?"

"Don't you see? No handle."

Padmé saw that he was right. Without a handle, how was one supposed to enter? Palpatine answered her unasked question.

"Only a Force-wielder can enter. And not any Force-wielder."

Padmé understood. "It's just like the Sith Temples," she said, "where only a dark-side wielder is able to enter. But this is the opposite. Only a light-side wielder can open these doors."

"Correct," Palpatine said, grimacing.

"So we're blocked."

"Not quite."

Palpatine stepped away from the door.

"You will have to help me."

"Help you? How?"

"I believe in you."

He provided no other instruction. Palpatine raised his hands. Padmé, rather unconfidently, replicated him.

"On my command," Palpatine said.

Padmé licked her lips nervously.

"Now."

At first, nothing happened. Padmé felt a sinking sensation in her stomach as the door scarcely creaked. Yet glancing to her left, she saw Palpatine intensely focused, eyes shut tight and his shoulders trembling. Padmé tried again.

The light side was not foreign to her. She had felt it before, in Anakin, in her children. She thought of them now, of the warmth they imbued within her. Yet it was difficult. The darkness around them repelled the light.

It was bizarre to use the Force in this way. It defied all of her teaching. But she continued to focus on the light within her. Her children, her husband. She thought about Sola, and of Jobal and Ruwee. She thought of Ahsoka and even of Obi-Wan, all those who had ever shown her kindness, or given her the benefit of the doubt, even when she didn't deserve it.

And she thought about the man beside her. Palpatine. Not the Emperor, not the Sith Lord, but the man she saw as a child. The man she relied on, and even loved. He who had raised her, protected her, nurtured her. For the first twenty odd years of her life, the only person who had ever shown her any inkling of affection, however skewed and deranged as it may have been.

"Padmé. That's enough."

She opened her eyes, without having remembered closing them in the first place. The door was open.

"We did it?"

"You did it," Palpatine corrected. "I helped, I suppose."

Padmé was stunned.

"Come," Palpatine said.

Padmé followed dazedly through the open doors into a rotunda of sorts. The circular room was dark and dusty, a rain-streaked cupola overhead revealing a cloudy sky. More holobooks gleamed from the shelves along the circumference. Slabs of marble interrupted the shelves at regular intervals, every thirty degrees it seemed, as there were twelve such slabs. Inlaid into the marble were triangular shapes which emitted a soft white light.

"Holocrons," Padmé said.

"Yes," Palpatine said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I will need your assistance to open them, Padmé."

"What are we looking for?"

"Anything and everything." He gravitated toward one of the slabs. "But there is one in particular… one that has eluded me for some time."

Padmé walked over to him. "What is it?"

Palpatine looked over the holocrons. "My master spoke of this power. The power to save someone from the brink of death. The Jedi acquired this knowledge and locked it away, never to use it. Arrogant fools." He extended a hand. Some six feet above them, a holocron shone brighter. "There it is."

"Is it really possible?" Padmé asked. "To prevent death?"

"We will find out together," Palpatine said. He curled his fingers, and the holocron popped out of its triangular aperture. It drifted serenely into Padmé's outstretched palms.

"Together?" Padmé said. "You mean you trust me with this knowledge?"

She met her master's eyes. He did not blink.

"There is no one I trust more."

It was an ambiguous thing to say. The cynic in her thought that he had only said that to manipulate her. Or better yet, he was technically telling the truth, because he trusted everyone the same – that is, not at all.

But Padmé didn't believe that. She took his words at face value.

Like the fool that she was.

"Thank you, Master."

Palpatine nodded to the holocron.

"Open it, my dear."

And so she did.

Author's Note: I'm alive! Thank you for your patience. I realize three months in between chapters isn't exactly optimal. But hey, the semester is over now and I have time to breathe again. I have the conclusion to this story all plotted out, it's just a matter of sitting down to write it all. I hope you enjoyed this somewhat innocuous installment. I absolutely love writing this weird dynamic between Padmé and Palpatine, so this chapter was a lot of fun for me personally (although I realize there's not much action). Next chapter should be quite exciting though, so you can look forward to that! Thanks for reading, as always.