For my awesome reviewers Reyofsunshine06xx, aigneis, kealan7, trainerb, kealan7, Machiavelliwasright, and especially CEFox7 and the guest on July 30th that both reviewed on multiple chapters. You truly made my day with your comments, and are the reason for this update.
This is likely my favorite chapter so far, as the small moments are a favorite of mine- you guys probably don't agree, but I hope you do enjoy it!
Vader stormed out of the communications center, the Dark Side swirling heavily around him like a living, breathing, demon spirit.
In the shock of discovering Padme, he had forgotten one key thing.
Sidious had told him that she was dead; that he had killed her.
Yet she was so very much alive.
Vader had been powerless to think clearly after that day on Mustafar, whisked underneath the currents of alternating darkness and suffocating feelings, drowning under the very swirling within him. He had fabricated her presence everywhere, tormenting him, pleading with him, crying out those dreaded words until his mind could not think from the agony. Then he had hated- himself and her and Obi-Wan for causing it, in his temper and their betrayal. He had had to shut her and everything related to her completely out, harden and numb himself to the wild, uncontrollable emotions lest the weakness rise up in him again and once more render him helpless and at its mercy.
But Sidious had not felt that way.
Sidious had always been cool, unaffected, almost entertained.
How had he gotten the information that she was dead? He had not struggled with equally imagining her and trying to shut her out.
It could have been a mistake . . . but Vader knew his master.
His master never did anything by accident, never seemed to make mistakes- everything was planned, circumstances constructed, organized from the very beginning. So how was it that he had made such a grave error?
It was unlikely.
Which meant that Sidious had lied to him.
Everything clicked at once. At the time, Vader had thought the indifference and amusement for the weakness his apprentice was so obviously demonstrating. But if he had lied . . . perhaps it was for a difference reason. Perhaps he wasn't so concerned about Vader's interest, but the interest Vader presented to him- and the weak mental state that was necessary to obtain the most out of that interest without threat to himself.
Vader had never in the past three years truly thought about Sidious's intentions, and what he was having him do; at that point, he no longer cared. He merely followed orders, mechanically doing whatever was assigned of him. The only conscious decision he made was to harness the Dark Side of the Force: to keep him going, to acquire the power that was the one thing left in life, to feel something and have some sort of purpose. He had known in the back of his mind how manipulative Sidious was, but had never thought about it enough to apply it to himself.
The realization shook him to his core. If Sidious was using him- where did that put him now?
Vader did not know.
He was so immersed in darkness that he didn't know anything else, knew nothing but to shied away from the harsh glare of the light. But there was a reason other than Sidious, wasn't there? He might have been used by Sidious, but hadn't everyone he had ever trusted betrayed him? Even if Sidious didn't care, at least he had thought him something. He hadn't cast him aside like the others had.
And the darkness- in its embrace he found what he had found nowhere else.
True acceptance.
The Jedi had just pretended to accept him, and his wife to care about him. In the end they had both abandoned him. He couldn't trust them.
With a plunge deep in his chest of something he did not know came a startling awareness to Vader's unwilling consciousness.
He couldn't trust anyone. No one was there for him.
He was alone.
No! He had Padme and the children, didn't he? They would love him or be made to so he would not be . . .
Suddenly his train of thought crashed, flaring up into flames as he saw his wife - his beautiful wife - beneath him, struggling against him and then still, broken and defeated, her eyes lifeless and her strong voice a dispirited whisper.
No.
Even though she had betrayed him and lied to him and should pay for what she had done . . . he knew in the very depth of his soul, in the part hidden away from the world, that he needed her- needed her to look at him with that warmth in her gaze again.
And that attempting to make it happen by force might unfortunately only worsen the situation he had so unwisely incremented in his anger.
Padme deserved punishment, but he didn't want to break her. He had seen a glimpse of it that night and he never wanted to see it again.
So what was he going to do?
The confusion dragged him down to weakness again, and Vader shook his head, banishing it. He would deal with another, less complicated traitor first.
Obi-Wan.
"Hurry up, youngsters, Lord Vader demanded you eat," snapped a cold mechanical voice.
The twins trudged to the table, pushed along by Triple-Zero. Though Leia had managed to catch a few hours - her worry about their mother none the less, but with a particular talent for sleeping - Luke hadn't sleep a wink, tossing and turning all night.
"Where is my Momma?" he demanded, standing next to his chair defiantly instead of sitting down.
Triple-Zero shoved the little boy into his seat. "None of your business. Now eat."
Leia would have none of Luke being bullied. "Or what?" she scoffed, regarding the robot scornfully. "You can't just push around my brother like that and expect him to listen."
The red eyes glowed, the arm extending. "I specialize in torture. So I suggest you obey."
Not knowing the meaning of the word, but getting the picture from the needle and the gleaming crimson color, Leia shrunk back, paling slightly but her eyes nonetheless remaining hard. "Whatever." She sent an apologetic look to Luke, then picked up the spoon, glaring at Triple-Zero before shoving the food into her mouth.
A dark shadow fell over them, the twins looking up to see Vader - fully dressed - stride into the kitchen. He banged open a cabinet, grabbing a morsel while inspecting the twins out of the corner of his yellow eyes. Seeing the sharp needle barely a foot from Leia, his jaw clenched, his teeth grinding sharply. "You're dismissed," he barked to the robot, the latter scurrying out of the kitchen at his words.
He turned back to the children, obviously angry, but his fury seeming to be directed elsewhere. Disinclined to inflame his already dangerous mood, Leia cleared her throat. "Um- thanks," she said slowly, studying him cautiously. "So, where you going?"
He stiffened. "Mission."
"To help people, like Bi-Wan?" she asked, curious.
Vader flinched this time, scowling crossly at the little girl. "He doesn't help people," he spat.
"He kinda does," Leia said, raising and lowering one shoulder timidly. "I know because he helps me 'wots of times."
"No he doesn't," Vader snapped. "He's fake and selfish."
"Well, he's un-" Leia stopped, enunciating the word carefully, "-un-sel-fish to me." Although she spoke softly, her little voice rang with quiet assurance. "One time, when I was 'reawy little, there were some 'wittle boys in the farm near us that didn't 'wike me because I had powers and could do 'fings they couldn't. They chased a wraid to'wards me, when I was outside playing. I didn't know-" she swallowed. "Well I didn't know it was coming, and when I heard the snarling it 'wuz too late, it 'wuz coming and I was too shocked to do any'fing." Vader become motionless, like a dark statue in the room. "But then Bi-Wan came- and he grabbed its leg so it couldn't hurt me." Leia's words grew stronger, filled with a silent awe and affection. "He grabbed its leg and pulled it back, and swung it and threw it a'wound wif' only his hands and the Force yelling at it to go a'way . . . and it went a'way and never came back," she concluded rather lamely, looking down at her hands. "B-Bi-Wan saved my life."
Vader was frozen, riveted to his spot on the floor. "W-Wasn't there anyone else around to help you?" he said harshly.
Leia shook her head. "No, it was dinnertime; there was no one else around. Luke was inside and Momma was cooking and the 'wittle boys ran away a-and you weren't there. . . " she trailed off uncertainly.
Vader looked at her silently, his yellow eyes becoming strangely light, a golden honey. "I-" He took a breath, turning away from her to face the opposite wall. "I-I suppose I could delay my mission, at least for now," he said roughly, seeming as though he had partially forgotten their very presence, speaking to himself yet loud enough for them to hear. "I don't have to- I don't want to waste my time dealing with him; I'll take care of him when he becomes an issue." Suddenly looking up from his pacing as though remembering they were there, he stopped, eyeing Leia pensively. He was silent; then-
"Do you require anything?" he asked abruptly.
Her brows folded in instant confusion. "W-What?"
"You and Luke," he said irritably, looking at both of them, his arms crossed. "Do you require anything that I missed?"
Luke sat speechless, dumbfounded, his animosity dissolving at the words if only for the moment. Leia sat just as still, but the corners of her mouth slowly twitched up, just barely forming a small smile. "Well," she said shyly, "Triple-Zero isn't really - well - the greatest . . . "
"You want someone else," Vader finished, almost carelessly.
Leia blushed. "Yea."
Vader turned to face her brother as well, an eyebrow raised. "Was he mean to you both?"
"He shoved me," Luke said frankly, crossing his arms.
Vader narrowed his eyes, his gaze flickering to the doorway Triple-Zero had exited through. "I'll get someone else immediately," he said shortly. Without a goodbye, or even another glance at them, he had stalked out of the kitchen.
Luke and Leia looked at each other.
A crash and a threatening snarl was heard from the other room.
Vader was angry, had been for the past day- but he didn't know at whom.
The darkness he had gathered to his side to defeat Obi-Wan was swirling almost bewildered around him, unsure of where now to go now that he had no further need of it.
The Dark Side could not just be banished, at the urge of a mind. Oh, no, once you invited it in, it was there to stay.
Hence the impossibility of ever turning back once you had set foot after its seductive beckoning.
He had not wanted to cease his pursuit of Obi-Wan's death- obviously not. But Leia's confession, he could admit, had shaken him, thrusting itself forcefully into his grudging hands and daring him to ignore it.
Vader had stared it down resentfully, but could not deny its horrible truth. Obi-Wan had saved Leia- taken care of her when he hadn't. And though Vader would have, of course - if not for his old master conspiring with Padme to hide the twins away from him in the first place - he could not negate the fact that Obi-Wan had, unselfishly, protected his child.
He pulled his fingers violently through his dirty blond locks, grumbling crossly. Well, he was not indebted to Obi-Wan, was he? After all, Obi-Wan had taken them from him in the first place.
Whatever. He had to deal with more important things: the childrens' request.
Vader yanked the comm out of his cloak. There was just one officer that would be any better than Triple-Zero, that he trusted to take care of Padme and the twins in his absence. Firmus Piett.
"Admiral."
"Yes, sir!" came an attentive voice on the other end.
Vader nearly smiled in satisfaction at the competence of the man, but quickly concealed it. "I need you to be re-stationed in my wing. Immediately."
Not a surprised pause, or even a moment of thought, before-
"Yes, sir!"
Now Vader smiled, as the comlink flickered off. Padme would be pleased an actual human was looking after the little ones now- wouldn't she?
His good mood instantly faded. Padme had been in the room- all day. It was past dinner, nearing night, and she still had not emerged. He had not tried to bring her food after what had happened the other night, leaving some outside in the hopes that she would come out.
She hadn't.
His anxiety was rising by every tick of the chrono and every flicker of a star outside the window. He had believed - hoped - that she would at least face him, even with jaw set and eyes blazing in defiance; but no. She was . . .
Distant.
And for once, Vader was afraid.
Afraid of how much worse it really was.
Uncertainly, he made his way to the door of his room. If only he could pretend; pretend that he was home from a mission and come to surprise her; pretend that she would greet him with an excited cry and a smile brighter than the explosion of a star in the galaxy; pretend that he could kiss her earnestly with all the yearning need for her he had in him, and she would merely laugh gaily and return his affection with the same intensity.
Vader had to force himself back to reality, away from her sparkling eyes and warm touch. He would make it that someday - somehow - he would see it all again.
He would do whatever was necessary.
Carefully so as not to alert her to his presence outside, the mighty Sith Lord pressed himself almost desperately against the door of his own room, hoping to hear something- anything.
Not a sound.
Vader's yellow eyes contorted in agitation, and before he could firmly resolve to make the decision or even comprehend what he was doing he was opening the door.
Padme lay on the floor, her chestnut locks in a jumbled tangle around her face as if she had been tossing, her eyes swollen shut. She was completely still, not a hint as to her breath or the beating of her heart.
She looked dead. Lifeless.
Something in Vader snapped at the sight, his heart clenching painfully. Suddenly lacking any of his former hesitation, he scooped her up, cradling her motionless form in his arms before setting her gently on the bed. He let go quickly, nervous of her reaction if she were to wake, backing away and attempting as best he could to refrain from looking at her.
Vader knew if he looked back he might never be able to leave.
Refusing to deign himself even a glance in Padme's direction, he went to the door, careful to keep it from slamming shut and instead pulling it very slowly towards him, until it closed with a soft click.
He would sleep on the couch tonight.
Please do review, if you are out there reading. I know, as a reader, it's a nuisance, but it really does make a world of difference; favorites and follows are great, but it's the reviews that really push the motivation for updates.
65 for the next chapter . . . and a little Vadmé late night encounter . . .
