Merry Christmas, everybody! Especially you, didi! ;)
This chapter is by far the longest I've written to date, so enjoy!
Poke.
The scenery was beautiful. She twirled in the meadow as flower petals tumbled around her.
Poke.
Obi-Wan called to her. He was standing on the balcony. Siri was beside him, and the two were waving at her. She could see Sola and her husband, Darred, as well. Little Ryoo was squealing in delight and rushed to join Padmé in the meadow.
Poke.
Then she saw her parents. They were just arriving from the dock. They smiled brightly at her, happy to see her. Last of all, there was someone who normally didn't join the family festivities at Varykino.
Vader was there.
POKE.
Padmé grumbled, swatting whatever was prodding her. She didn't want to let go of this dream… though it was already slipping. She wasn't even sure what she'd been dreaming about now, only that it had been pleasant. Then she heard a sigh, one that sounded annoyed. Was that her breathing?
Padmé opened her eyes abruptly.
The room was still pitch black. The stars were twinkling outside. A silhouette was right beside her, kneeling on the floor. Gasping, Padmé put a hand to her heart, but this time her brain quickly put the pieces together. "Blast it all, didn't I say to not do that?"
"You fell asleep." Vader stated, and his voice held a deep indignation to it.
Padmé rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry; I didn't realize how tired I was."
"You fell asleep." He repeated.
Padmé looked at him. "Yes, I know. You could have just left me here; this chair is pretty comfortable."
"We never completed the game. You lost. You fell asleep."
Padmé grumbled, sitting up, and she poked his forehead. "There, I found you." Then she glanced up at a chronometer that was sitting on a mantle and suddenly realized why Vader was so annoyed.
She'd been asleep for three hours.
Blanching, she looked at him once more. "You weren't hiding for three hours, were you?"
Vader folded his arms, looking sour.
Honestly, Padmé didn't know whether to apologize profusely or laugh. She settled for the former, partly because she was genuinely sorry but also because she was fairly certain he was grumpy enough to take offence to her laughter. "I'm really sorry – I didn't mean to fall asleep. Come on, let's go to bed."
Vader looked like he wanted to argue, but Padmé stood and walked by him, not giving him the opportunity. He followed her sullenly, but he sobered when he noted they weren't heading back to their usual rooms. "Where are we going?"
"The bedrooms back here are better," Padmé explained as she trudged through the large hallways. Eventually she found the room she was looking for; it was one of the many available master bedrooms. Her family typically reserved it for her grandparents since it had the most comfortable bed in the entire villa.
As she entered the room, she gazed around. Despite the size of the villa, none of the bedrooms were particularly large; they were "comfortably snug" as her father had put it once. This bedroom was no different. The room was built symmetrically, with arching ceilings and two white pillars flanking the large bed. Beside the pillars were sizable windows that allowed for a view of the lake. The windows, pillars, and bed were all along the back wall; the left wall had some chairs and artwork while the right wall had dressers and a closet. A rocking chair was in the corner, and a small table and a sofa were in the other corner.
Padmé motioned to the bed. "It's the best one in the villa. Take it."
Vader glanced at her. "I don't need the best bed."
"I'm offering it to you as an apology." Padmé insisted.
"I don't need the best bed."
"It's not a matter of needing, it Vader," Padmé argued, growing annoyed at his stubbornness. "Just sleep there."
Vader shook his head.
Padmé sighed heavily. "Why not?"
"You need it."
Padmé did a double take. "I—what?" Vader's eyebrow twitched, and before he could make a remark about her hearing once more, she shook her head. "Why do I need it?"
"Because it's the best bed."
She froze in the midst of whatever argument she was formulating, touched and surprised by his words. She didn't know how to reply. Vader turned to leave when her silence lingered long enough for his satisfaction, and she hastily found her voice once more. "Wait! I… this is supposed to be your bed."
When Vader simply shook his head and turned to leave, she sighed heavily and sat on the contested furniture. "All right, all right. Just come here."
Vader did as she bade, watching her curiously. For an instant—just an instant—she was so relaxed it felt like she was with family. She pat the spot beside her as she would with Obi-Wan or Sola, and then as soon as she did so, she regretted it. Her cheeks flushed so hot she felt like she had sunburn, and Vader mirrored her. Then she awkwardly hugged herself and was trying to figure out how in the blazes she'd make him not do as she just suggested without seeming like she'd lost her mind, which she obviously had.
Okay, just change the subject. "Let's do more storytelling."
The tension in the room eased and Vader hesitantly climbed onto the bed beside her. Well, she hadn't really detracted him from doing so… "You mean exchanging wisdom?"
"Exactly." She remarked, tightening the hug on herself. She was sitting on the same bed as Darth Vader. She was insane. She was really insane.
Vader seemed to be similarly ill at ease, and he shifted slightly so he was as far from her as possible.
Padmé blew out a breath. She'd gotten herself into this mess. She could at least make it less awkward. "Okay, I'll go first." She racked her brain to figure out what she could tell him or teach him, and she realized that there was something he was sorely lacking—well, there were a lot of things he was sorely lacking, but a large one was the experience of the simple aspects of life. "This bed has a long history to it. My grandparents normally sleep here, but when they're not with the family at the villa, it was always our favorite place to play inside, apart from the music room. We'd sneak in here—we always had to sneak because we weren't allowed to actually do this—and start jumping on the bed – it's the bounciest and we always had so much fun. One day, though, we were all arguing because nobody wanted to be on guard duty for the parents, so we all finally decided to jump on the bed together. Inevitably, Mom and Dad found us and we got into trouble, but it was so much fun, especially when we got into a pillow fight. There were feathers everywhere."
Vader looked at her in bewilderment. "And the wisdom learned was…?"
"Never let your guard down," Padmé replied smartly with a smirk. "After all, we were caught because we didn't have someone keeping an eye out."
"Jumping on the bed is a strange pastime," Vader noted, looking unimpressed. "And useless."
"There's a distinct joy to jumping on the bed," Padmé argued with mock annoyance. "You feel like you're flying and will never come down."
"But you do come down."
Rolling her eyes, Padmé suddenly leapt to her feet on the bed. She held her hands out to Vader. "Get up here."
Vader looked at her hands, then at her.
"Get up," she repeated.
Vader stood without touching her and looked at his feet before watching her once more. "Beds aren't for standing."
"Nope. They're for jumping." She laughed, jumping slightly. Vader wobbled a little as he fought to maintain his balance. He watched her in utter befuddlement, and she had to laugh at his expression; he probably thought she was absolutely crazy at this point. She was inclined to agree with him, honestly; she didn't know why she was doing this. A part of her wanted to expose him to the innocent and simple pleasures of life, but the other part was yelling that this wasn't going to do anything at all. He just wouldn't understand.
She didn't care.
"Jump!" she told him between laughs.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because!"
"That's not a good reason."
"It's the same as saying, because Master says so," she retorted, still bouncing happily.
This seemed to annoy Vader slightly, but he didn't reply. Instead, he sighed heavily as she once again bade him to jump with her. Eventually he gave in, and she had to laugh even harder at how ridiculous he looked—at how ridiculous they both looked. As she laughed, his sour expression dissolved, but he still just looked bemused. However, things changed when Padmé yelped as she suddenly lost her balance. For a split second she thought she would fall off the bed, and she felt her gut clench in a heartbeat, but then she realized to her horror that she was actually falling forward— towards Vader. The Sith's eyes widened slightly as he saw her fall, and he reached out to grab her so she wouldn't knock them both off the bed. She did succeed in knocking them down, though, but they thankfully landed on the mattress… and on top of each other.
The world around her stopped. She panted for air as she lay atop Vader, feeling her skin tingle and her heart race. Vader was gasping as well, and the two looked into each other's eyes for an eternity before Vader gulped, blushed, and prodded her shoulders. "Um…"
The frozen moment in time thawed, and Padmé hastily rolled off of him. At the same time, he quickly got out of bed, straightening his nightclothes. Padmé remained where she was, trying to ignore the smell of his skin, the feel of his muscles under his shirt, the blue oceans that were his eyes…
"I'll find another room," Vader said, snapping her out of her daze. Padmé gulped and nodded mutely. She couldn't find her voice or catch her breath until long after he'd left.
The Invariant Beauty hummed softly as it flew through hyperspace. Most of its inhabitants were asleep; they'd left at the crack of dawn to cut as many corners as possible. Obi-Wan, however, couldn't really fall back asleep, so he simply lay on his bunk listening to his wife snore softly in the bunk above him.
A million thoughts were swirling in his mind. He thought briefly about the situation with Salkende. He wasn't sure how they could really convince Tlenden or Adelig to join the Alliance's cause beyond waiting for their civil war to end. Tlenden seemed to have very little interest in the Rebels altogether, while Adelig had at least been sympathetic. She'd even mentioned that she wanted to help, but her priority was her clan. Obi-Wan presumed that the only way she'd get involved was if the Empire somehow threatened her clan. That didn't seem likely; Salkende was known to be the powerhouse of its system, but it was fairly quiet in the galactic scheme of things… at least when Tlenden wasn't voicing his opinion. Perhaps Obi-Wan could use that to his advantage; Tlenden was as vocal as Padmé, but he was older and more experienced, so he often phrased it in a less hostile, though equally direct, manner. Obi-Wan figured the Empire was investigating Tlenden to ensure he wasn't a sympathizer. Maybe if he brought that to the senator's attention it would convince him. He'd need proof, though; Siri would have to provide that. Hopefully they could find proof quickly so Padmé could be replaced by some other spy.
Obi-Wan shook his head. He felt trapped. He knew Siri felt it too, and he could imagine Padmé did as well. As he and Siri had noted with Organa, they'd blow their cover if they left abruptly, but if they remained heaven only knew what would happen. Padmé was being actively investigated and threatened; it wasn't as if they were still hiding in the shadows as they used to. They were literally standing in the line of fire and just glaring defiantly at the Empire. It was admirable, but it was foolish; they needed to get off Imperial Center permanently. Just how long would it take for the Empire to find the proof it needed? What proof did it have?
He sighed and clutched his shirt as he felt his chest tighten. Despite all the insanity of his time with the service corps and during Padmé's tenure as queen, he'd never had to deal with this. He supposed he was holding up well enough; he had to. He had to be the stable one; Siri would never back down from a challenge and she wouldn't let the stress tear her apart, but it would affect her judgment. She'd become more reckless, more proactive, more dangerous. Padmé was similarly rash and had even less experience than Siri in such matters. Just thinking about Padmé alone with Darth Vader for the entire duration of their trip made his stomach churn. He knew it hadn't sat well with Siri, either, but for the most part they'd both lied to themselves and said she'd be fine.
Was it really a lie? Did Obi-Wan have that little faith in Padmé? He knew she wasn't incompetent… but he didn't know if Vader would put up with her or just kill her. She'd sounded healthy but nervous, stressed, and on edge when she'd spoken to him last. He supposed he should take some comfort in the fact that she herself hadn't called them; they had called her out of concern. It meant she hadn't been desperate enough to do so. She was in control of the situation, for the most part, even if she had subtly insisted they get home quickly.
So why did he still have a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach? And speaking of bad feelings, what in the blazes was he going to do about their new Jedi protector? He supposed it should ease his concerns about being murdered before they can get off Imperial Center, but… wasn't it also all the more obvious? Couldn't Darth Vader sense if a Jedi was with them? And what in the blazes was Obi-Wan going to do around a Jedi? His opinion of them had changed dramatically since Adelig had told him he was a Jedi hopeful when the Republic fell. He'd originally admired the Jedi and mourned their loss, but he'd never felt connected to them. They were just another victim of the Empire. Now, though… he felt a connection he wasn't sure he wanted. He wasn't exactly thrilled to be thrown in with the Empire's number one enemy. Yet it also filled him with a strange sense of purpose, like the oath he'd sworn to himself about helping the galaxy had suddenly become all the more important. He could do so much more if he had the ability of the Force… but he had no training. Well, there was that Jedi…
Obi-Wan shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. No. He was not going to start gallivanting around the galaxy swinging a lightsaber and claiming he could save all of creation just because he could sense the Force. That was beyond silly; he had no time for special warrior training, and he preferred to not fight at all. The Jedi had been known as the serene protectors of the Republic, but that was only by reputation; all the stories about them were always war stories, and Obi-Wan was no soldier. He didn't want to be one.
As Obi-Wan's mind wandered through the situation he eventually sighed and got out of bed. Grabbing his comlink, he decided to call Padmé again, at least to tell her they were finally on their way home.
She didn't answer.
Despite trying his best to be calm, Obi-Wan's mind once again immediately filled with a thousand concerns. He wondered if he could somehow sense through the Force if Padmé was alright, but he was too nervous to attempt it. Besides, it wouldn't do him any good; he had no clue how to use the Force, and he'd probably just work himself up into even more of a frenzy.
He was so blasted tired of worrying.
Breathe. I need to breathe. Obi-Wan tossed the comlink onto the bed and climbed down the ladder to the lounge. Al's loud snores could be heard through the closed door leading to his quarters. Apart from that and the gentle hum of the hyperdrive, the lounge was silent. Good. He needed some silence. Sitting on couch, he sighed heavily, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. He needed to calm down. Letting his mind sift through the worrying thoughts, he eventually pushed them out and settled on happier memories in an attempt to be patient; there was nothing he could do for Padmé at this point. They would be on Naboo in eight hours.
Those eight hours couldn't pass quickly enough.
The gentle beeping of a comlink echoed hollowly in the empty halls of the lake retreat. Its futile calls fell on no ears at all since it was in an empty guest room. Further into the villa Padmé was completely unaware of the call, having fallen asleep two hours earlier. The sun was barely rising, making the room glow dimly. A figure stood in the doorway, watching Padmé as she slept. He stood uncertainly, shifting his weight as he seemed to be mulling something over. His jaw clenched and loosened as if he were tasting words in his mouth, contemplating something spoken by him or to him. He took a hesitant step forward, paused, and then stepped away once more. He'd been doing this for almost an hour; he hadn't slept much.
The room seemed to grow heavier as his eyes darkened. A thought crossed his mind, brief determination and worry crossed his face. Something was bothering him. Something he would share with no one, not even his new partner. The worry vanished as he glanced outside. He needed to walk.
Vader left the room.
Snap-hiss.
Padmé awoke with a jolt to see a bright red light blinding her. With a gasp she saw the light descending towards her and she scrambled back. She became tangled in the blanket and sheets and wrenched her arm as hard as she could to pull farther from the light, which her adrenaline-pumped mind hastily recognized as a lightsaber. The fabric of the bed was singed where she had just been.
Falling out of the bed, Padmé stumbled to the wall, watching in horror as the blade moved closer to her.
How did—what—when—why—
"Surroundings."
Padmé gasped and leapt to the side as the blade came down upon her once more. The word triggered some sort of reminder in her and she grabbed the nearest chair and shoved it in the direction of the attacker.
The attacker—Vader—why was he—
The blade sliced through the chair and a flick of the wrist sent the debris flying towards her. Yelling, Padmé once again dove for cover and then rushed out of the room. She was gasping for air as she ran down the hall, her eyes quickly adjusting to the intense light of the midmorning sun.
What the hell was going on?!
With a terrifying jolt she heard footsteps running behind her and she hastily took a sharp right down a winding marble stairway that led to a large living room. She wasn't thinking about anything apart from getting away, but as soon as she saw the living room she was grateful she'd chosen to go here; there were four different exits. Running through one that led to a smaller sitting area, she looked around, panicked, as she frantically searched for a place to hide. The bay window had a bench that served as a storage compartment, so she hastily slid in there and sealed the lid, trying to quiet her breathing.
As she finally grew silent, she listened intently for any kind of movement. She heard none. Padmé took that moment to try and figure out what the hell just happened.
Darth Vader had almost killed her. He was trying to kill her. What had happened? Had he just lost his mind? Had he finally given up on letting her join his side? Did he finally receive the kill order?
Darth Vader. Sith Lord. Force. Shavit.
Just as Padmé had the gut wrenching revelation that Vader could probably use the Force to sense her, the door to the storage compartment opened, dazzling her eyes. In a heartbeat she kicked at random and tried to get out of the death trap when she felt a hand grab her by the arm and knock her to the ground.
She was not going to die like this.
She twisted herself and kicked at the darkly clad legs that belonged to her attacker. Vader was forced to dodge, allowing her to get to her feet once more. She grabbed a chair and threw it at him and then rushed back into the living room, heading for the stairs. She had to get her blaster, which was practically on the other side of the villa. How the hell was she going to get there before he killed her?
She'd reached the stairs when she felt herself freeze in place. Her muscles struggled and she felt a scream begin to come forth, but she couldn't vocalize it. She couldn't move at all. It felt as if some cold electrifying energy were holding her in place, and every time she struggled it hurt all the more.
"Impressive."
Whatever was holding her released its grip and she gasped, almost falling down the stairs. She quickly got up to run once more, though her mind was registering why Vader would complement her if he was trying to kill her—
She stopped. No. He couldn't have. Slowly turning, Padmé saw Vader watching her calmly, his lightsaber no longer active. He clipped it to his belt and left it there to hang harmlessly. His sharp blue eyes were observing her.
"You… you…" she gasped, shocked and enraged. "You were testing me?!"
"You weren't very compliant with training last night," Vader replied nonchalantly. "I decided to do some unscheduled exercises. You fought relatively well."
Relatively well?!
"You could have killed me!" Padmé shouted.
Vader shrugged. "I didn't."
And, in his defense, that was the stark truth. He could have killed her a million different ways, none of which included waking her or shouting tips during the fight. Still…
"I have a new ground rule," Padmé immediately said. "No kriffing combat training before breakfast or after dinner. By the Force, Vader, you can't just attack me in my sleep—"
Vader took three large steps towards her and he was a breath away from her in a heartbeat. "That's when they'll strike, though. That's when they always strike: when you're vulnerable. That's why you can't be vulnerable. It's a ground rule: you must never show weakness. Why can't you understand that?"
Padmé felt her insides churn. She was still upset with him, but his eyes held something she'd never seen in them before. They held concern. He was worried about something… he might even be worried about her. Before she could ask, he'd stepped away, suddenly filled with nervous energy as he paced around the room.
"The entire galaxy is your ally and your enemy. At any moment someone could turn on you. You can't trust anyone. You can't. Don't you realize—you have to realize—the position you're in—you—you're so close to death, and I—you can't be weak." After ranting he stopped, panting for air, and then whirled on her. "Again. We need to do it again."
"No!" Padmé quickly shook her head, holding a hand out to stop him. "This is not how to prepare, nor is it the time."
Vader didn't listen. He charged towards her. He didn't brandish his weapon; instead he threw a punch towards her. Padmé quickly ducked and sidestepped the attack. Vader immediately grabbed her by the nightgown and tried to throw her to the ground, but she wrapped her hands around his wrist and kicked his gut. With a grunt he released her and aimed a chop at her neck. Padmé tried to block it or catch it, but the force of his attack only hurt her hand and knocked her to the ground. She kicked at his shins but he hopped over her leg. Instead of attacking her again, though, he crouched beside her and grabbed her shoulders desperately, giving her a shake.
"Blast it, Padmé, you can't be this sloppy! You have to improve, you have to be perfect, you can't—"
He cut himself off, releasing her and standing. He began to pace around the room once more, running a hand through his hair. Padmé didn't know to be more shocked by the fact that he'd called her by name or his behavior. Sitting up she twisted her torso to watch him, not knowing what to say. He'd never seemed to obsess this much, even when they'd done brief training exercises before she'd agreed to partner up with him. When they'd gone swimming and when they'd sparred on CC4 he hadn't been like this. He hadn't even been like this last night.
"What's wrong?" Padmé asked.
"I just said!" Vader replied, nearly tearing his hair out. He was starting to panic. She'd never seen him in this state before.
Padmé hastily stood and went to him, grabbing his wrists and pulling his arms towards her. "Hey, stop it. Look at me. It's fine."
Vader did as he was told, and the concern in his eyes was clearly aimed at her. What had brought this on?
"Milord," she said softly to calm him. "I will improve. It's going to be fine. I'm not going to be perfect overnight, and running me ragged won't help. Just relax."
"You don't understand," he argued, trying to step away from her. She wouldn't let him. "You're—they'll—anyone could attack you at any moment—"
"I held my own against you for a little while," Padmé offered to appease him. "And I've fought before. I doubt many attackers are as skilled and talented as you. It's not like you're going to be actually trying to kill me, so just relax. I can handle other opponents."
Vader's mouth became a thin line. He looked like he was about to burst. So Padmé did what she always did to comfort people: she hugged him. He tensed under her grip, but he didn't pull away. His breathing, coming in short rasps, eventually began to slow. She felt it move her hair and tickle her scalp. He didn't move, and she didn't dare break contact; she'd never seen him this worked up, even when he'd told her about his opinion of himself. The thought that he was actually this worried about her was… well, she didn't know what to make of it. She supposed it was a good sign; it showed he was capable of making favorable attachments. But a part of her worried that maybe she shouldn't be trying to get an emotionally unstable killer to have an attachment to her.
Padmé sighed and began to rub small circles on Vader's back. It didn't matter. She'd promised to help him. She would help him. The fact that he was acting this way about her was proof enough that she had a chance in succeeding. Bolstered by this, she continued to hold the Sith Lord and offered whispers of comfort. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay."
There was silence for a long time as she held him. Then, in a quiet voice, he asked, "Can we train now?"
Something about the softness of his voice just made her laugh. And almost cry. He really knew nothing else; the reason he kept insisting on the same continuous grueling exercises was because he existed only for that; only for honing his skills in everything possible, so as to serve his beloved Master.
In that moment Padmé felt such an unadulterated hatred for Palpatine that she was practically floored by it. The only link to sanity from that rage was the physical contact with Vader, which quickly reminded her of the situation. "Let's eat, okay? Then I'll decide the agenda for the day."
Vader was silent, but it was a heavy kind of silence. He wanted to reply. He wanted to argue. Instead, she felt him nod and she allowed him to step away from her. Vader glanced at her for a moment longer before he climbed the stairs, leaving Padmé to herself. She was grateful for it; as soon as he was out of sight, her body sagged in exhaustion, and she sat on the floor with a heavy sigh. The whirlwind of emotions and situations that had just occurred within the span of ten minutes left her head spinning. She'd been right when she'd assumed this would be more exhausting than her previous objective. Was it still worth it?
Absolutely.
Taking a deep breath, Padmé went to her room to dress for the day. She cleaned herself up, contemplating the situation. She still wasn't sure why Vader was suddenly so petrified about her training and her well being; yesterday he'd been insistent and excited, but today… had he felt any of this concern yesterday? What had brought this on? He'd spoken as if she were in danger; did he know something she didn't? Had the Empire finally ordered her execution? How did that fit in with her new partnership to him? How was he going to sort this all out?
Maybe that's what was wrong.
Whatever the issue was, Padmé knew that her first priority was to calm Vader. Having very little experience with handling his own emotions, she was fairly certain Vader was no doubt a wreck and unable to stop the panic that was currently throwing him into a frenzy. At least the hug had managed to stop him from attacking her again.
The hug. She'd hugged him. She'd just done it in the spur of the moment; she always hugged people to comfort them, at least when the situation was informal. It hadn't registered what she'd done until just now. She'd hugged him. And, more notably, he hadn't pulled away. Padmé didn't know what to make of that. More importantly, though, how was she going to reassure Vader?
Looking outside, Padmé sighed heavily. She was tired. And sore. The playing from New Year's, the training from last night, the emotional and physical roller coaster this morning… she couldn't keep that up. At least not today. There had to be a way to avoid physical training today.
Then she had an idea. If Vader didn't know how to control his worry, physical training was the last thing they needed to worry about. Padmé wasn't sure how appreciative Vader would be if she redirected the training on him, but it was worth a shot. She could come up with plenty of ways to teach him about how to act like an actual human being.
Smiling, Padmé grabbed the same dress she'd worn when they'd gone on a picnic. That had been so long ago; it had been when they first broached the subject of family, love, emotion in general. Thinking back to it his words made so much sense knowing what she did now. She shuddered.
Padmé eventually made her way to the dining area. Vader, who had already been dressed and prepped for the day before she'd even woken up, was pacing on the balcony. He immediately detected her presence and turned to look at her. Before he could speak a word, though, she cut him off. "Milord, I have a suggestion for our agenda today."
Vader paused, took a deep breath, and collected himself into his usual calm façade. He nodded once in acquiescence.
"Let's go to Thecine." Padmé said. "It's a bit of a distance from here, but it's still in the Lake Country. It's the biggest city in the area, and is very famous through all of Naboo. I love going there, and we haven't had a chance to see it."
"That has nothing to do with—"
"While we're there, we can both train," Padmé interrupted to assure him. "I can show you how to actually interact normally since you seem to have quite the problem with that, and you can teach me your powers of observation. We'll get to learn from each other, milord. We'll get to see the world through each other's eyes."
"Your fighting skills are still sorely lacking," Vader noted, shaking his head.
"Yes, about that," Padmé walked towards him. "What caused that panic earlier? You didn't seem so nervous last night."
"I wasn't panicked." Vader immediately replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I spent some time considering your ability to defend yourself and found it to be inadequate. I chose the appropriate action."
"So running around the room ranting is an appropriate response?" Padmé shot back, not letting him avoid the subject.
Vader took a deep breath and said nothing. Padmé wasn't quite sure how to proceed; she'd won the argument, but she hadn't really gotten a legitimate answer out of the Sith Lord. It was quite possible that he'd simply thought about her fighting ability and decided to do what he'd done, but it didn't seem to fit. It felt like there was more to this, but she didn't quite know how to ask… and she wasn't sure she'd get a reply. It might be better if she just allowed herself the victory and moved on.
She didn't. "Why were you panicking?"
"People panic, not me. I was simply making a point."
Padmé crossed her arms. "Then you were pretending to panic?"
Vader didn't answer. He simply looked away.
Padmé sighed heavily. "What made you think about my ability to defend myself?"
"You wanted to go to Thecine, milady, so let's go."
"You can't keep avoiding this conversation, you know. And it's Padmé, remember? You had that down earlier."
"Not now."
She was hitting a duracrete wall and she knew it. Shaking her head, she finally relented. She shouldn't be pulling any punches at this point, but if he refused to be compliant it wouldn't do her any good anyway. "All right, then. Let's go."
Quickly grabbing a small pouch for her belongings and money, Padmé led the way to the dock. Vader hopped into the driver's seat, but they now had two boats. Should she just drive her own and lead him? Should they race again? What could calm him down? Was he already calm at this point? He certainly seemed to be, if a little snappish. She wished she could read him better; she thought she'd been getting pretty good at that. Based on what little she'd been able to observe, he did legitimately seem his usual self now, but whatever response he refused to give hung heavily over the both of them. Perhaps she could still glean some information out of him from a different point of view.
"So… I see you're listening to some of my ground rules," Padmé noted as she sat beside him in the boat. Vader gave her a quizzical look, so she elaborated. "When I hugged you, I mean. You didn't pull away."
Vader averted his gaze, busying himself with the navigational computer on the dashboard. Padmé gave him a few moments to fiddle with it and find the directions to Thecine before she pushed him further. "Milord, this day is supposed to be an opportunity for us to see through each other's eyes. Don't avoid conversations."
Vader paused. Then he leaned back into his seat slowly, exhaling softly through his nose. "What do you want to see?"
Padmé looked at him confusedly. "What?"
"You want to see through my eyes. That's quite a bit… so what, specifically, do you want to see?"
Oh, she had an opportunity here. "Just walk me through your day so far."
Vader pondered her request for a few moments. Padmé wasn't sure if he would even respond. Eventually, though, he spoke. "I awoke and realized we had a lot of work to do, so I didn't bother going back to sleep. I… contemplated a few matters, walked, and then woke you."
Padmé rolled her eyes. "That was truly insightful, milord."
Vader started the engine, paying her remark little mind. Padmé wondered if she should wait for them to reach the city or if she should push him some more while they were at Varykino. It would be better to speak here; the city would be a distraction. Still, he seemed very reluctant – trying to get anything out of him right now was like pulling ears off a gundark. It was a little too tiring for her at the moment.
The trip to Thecine was spent in silence as Padmé closed her eyes and allowed herself to rest. She imagined what she could do with Vader once they reached the city. Thecine was the largest city in the Lake Country, and it was among the most popular cities on all of Naboo. It was known for its wonderful architecture, its canal streets, its New Year's festivities, its food… essentially everything. It was a hotspot for tourism, and it had plenty to offer for both Padmé and Vader. She would certainly be interested to hear his opinion on the many things they would see, experience, and do. She imagined he'd mostly claim that what they were doing was irrelevant, but she'd somehow manage to make him at least go through with it. She expected that Vader probably didn't find enjoyment in anything because he'd never let himself actually do anything. No one was an island. No one was entirely heartless (except the emperor…). Vader just needed a little push and he'd start seeing that life had far more to offer than just serving Master.
Once they arrived, Padmé smiled. The docks to Thecine were quite extensive and vastly populated. It was nothing like the calm docks of Isola or the isolation of Varykino. People milled about everywhere; dock workers and droids guided people and manned different stations, families arrived at different docks with excitable younglings straining to jump out and run amok, and large groups of friends tried to push through crowds and laughed at each other as they failed miserably. Thecine didn't allow for any kind of air speeders or speed boats within city limits so as to minimize pollution and noise, so gondolas lined the walls of the canals. The gondoliers driving the boats stood expectantly, each styling their gondola with different decorations and cushions to attract customers. The city was decorated festively for the New Year; holographic miniature fireworks went off near some stores while other places had music playing. The architecture mirrored Theed, and banners flew from the top of buildings with messages of well wishing for the New Year. Looking at all the bustle and sights, Padmé nodded to herself. This was going to be fun.
"All right, milord, what do you see?" she asked him after he paid to leave the boat at the dock.
"The Festival of the New Year has brought many tourists here, though judging from how well prepared they are and how large the city is, they're probably used to sizable amounts of visitors, anyway." Vader remarked, slipping his money pouch onto his belt. "Most of these people are harmless for the moment; any sort of incident could cause a panic. You can use the people to your own devices if required. If you need to cause a stampede this would be a good place to do so. This would also be a good place to lose a tail… or be a tail to someone. Cities like this offer many opportunities. They can also be death traps. It all depends on how you take advantage of it."
Padmé sighed. She expected more of a 'these people are doing frivolous useless things,' but she shouldn't be surprised that he instead saw a possible battlefield. It made her chest tighten; to think that all he saw of life was war was depressing.
"You want to know what I see?" she asked. "I see a chance for an adventure. The unknown. I see many opportunities to try new things, meet new people, and to wind down after our mission to CC4." Before Vader could point out that he didn't need to relax, she added, "And winding down is important, milord. If you don't, weakness shows through; you get exhausted, you become stressed, and you can't handle situations as well. Everyone needs a break, even you."
"People need breaks."
"Good. Then we're on the same page." Padmé smirked at him and slipped her arm through his. His slightly frustrated expression immediately changed to confusion and alarm and he stared at her arm. Sighing, she remarked, "Milord, it's a casual gesture here. Learn from my lead; you have to know how to blend in to populated areas if you don't want people to know who you are."
Vader sighed and reluctantly allowed the touch. He hadn't been this upset about the hug earlier; she wondered why it mattered now. Perhaps he was in his right mind now, as opposed to earlier? She'd have to find out.
"So what new opportunities did you have in mind?" Vader asked, glancing around the area.
"Lunch," Padmé immediately answered with a laugh. "I'm starving."
It was a bit of a walk, but Padmé managed to find a café that actually had some tables without a thirty minute wait period. The two sat in a fenced off area that was filled to the brim with talkative customers. A family with a youngling no older than three or four was just beside them. Padmé watched the girl with amusement, but Vader paid the entire scenario little mind. He glanced at the menu and then began to watch the street.
"What do you want to get?" Padmé asked him to get his attention.
Vader glanced back at the menu and pointed to the first meal on the list.
"Do you like salads?" Padmé asked. She already knew the answer.
"I've no opinion on it."
"Then why are you ordering it?"
Vader shrugged. "It's food."
"There are other options, you know."
Vader sighed. "What do you want me to order, then?"
"It's not about what I want," Padmé shook her head. "It's about what you want. You have to have some sort of preference for food."
Vader leaned back in his seat. "What's your true motive for this trip? It's not training. We both know that."
Padmé smiled. "But it is training, milord. It's time you learn how to be a human being."
Vader's eyes briefly glossed over everyone in the area to ensure they weren't listening in. He didn't seem comfortable having this conversation here. Still, he should recognize just as she had that nobody cared about the two of them except for their waitress; everyone else was caught up in their own affairs.
"I train you, not vice versa," he finally replied.
"Why not?" Padmé rebutted. "You always strive to be the best you can be for the emperor. So why not improve yourself?"
Vader snorted. "I don't view people as an improvement over me."
Well that was interesting. It shed a little more light on some things, at least; he did seem to have some self worth, even if it was in a twisted way. "So you're superior to them?"
"I'm not them. It's as simple as that."
"Then why aren't they an improvement?"
"Emotions are messy. They can provide opportunities, but they're rarely useful when it pertains to yourself. Anger is a good fuel, but…" Here Vader trailed off, shifting in his seat uncertainly. He didn't seem sure how to continue.
"You seem to linger on that emotion a lot," Padmé noted, recalling previous conversations. "Is that something the emperor has in vast amounts?"
"Anger is… a weapon of the Sith." Vader muttered, his brow furrowed as he observed the designs of the lattice table. "The emperor…"
Strange. He called him nothing but 'Master' before, but now he was calling him the emperor? Ah. They were in public. Then she deduced what it was that Vader wasn't saying, and suddenly his expression made sense. "The emperor wants you to use anger like a Sith should."
Vader blew out a frustrated breath. "I can't. I don't understand why he… I can't not obey him, but I can't feel anger…" He suddenly looked up at her, his eyes sharp as knives. "You want to teach me? Tell me how to use anger if I can't feel it. I have to obey the emperor."
Padmé mulled it over in her mind, her gaze drifting. He obviously could feel anger, but how could she tell him that? How did one describe anger? Vader had described it as a reaction to losing something or not getting something one's way. Perhaps she could use his argument. The fact that she had to explain something so impossibly inexplicable and intrinsic to a person's being made it difficult to articulate, and she almost had to laugh at the thought of what she was doing; this was not how she had expected her vacation to go.
"You once said that anger is a reaction to being denied something." She began, but then she recalled that he'd also added at that time that he hadn't been denied anything. Still, it was worth asking; she could use the time he spent formulating a reply to remember when he'd shown anger to her. Then she could use those moments as examples. "Have you ever been in that situation?"
Vader paused as she had suspected, so she began going over their many interactions in her mind. Vader typically showed anger when Padmé stepped too far… though most recently it had been when she'd interrupted his walk. Speaking of that, his explanation still didn't make sense; what did he mean when he said it was just him? Did he never get a moment to himself on Imperial Center?
"No."
Padmé locked eyes with him, her mind returning to the present. No? He'd never been denied anything in his life? "I find that hard to believe."
Vader shook his head. "It's true."
Padmé crossed her arms. "Your parents never said no to you when you were a youngling? If you asked for something, they'd always give it to you? You've never failed at a mission? You've always gotten your way in everything you do?"
"Any time a mission didn't go according to plan I always rectified the situation."
"You've never made mistakes in your life? Never had to deal with someone who screwed something up?"
Vader sighed. "Scenarios have gone wrong, but… I… I can't feel anger. Even if I have been in those situations, I just can't."
"Why not?" Padmé asked, suddenly leaning forward. They had to cut to the heart of this matter.
"You know why," he replied, glancing around once more.
"Because you don't think you're a person," Padmé answered for him. "Why do you think that?"
"I've already said I wouldn't tell you."
Padmé leaned back once more, growing frustrated. "How do you expect me to help you when you don't cooperate?"
"Then you cannot help me."
"I didn't say that," Padmé shook her head. "Honestly, it's not like you haven't felt emotions before. Even you admitted you have a fear of failure. Even you admitted you've felt loneliness."
"Loneliness is a state of being, not an emotion. It implies you're alone."
"That is not what loneliness is and you know it," Padmé immediately argued.
"Well I'm not lonely anymore, anyway," Vader replied, his voice darkening. "I should have never felt it in the first place; such a pathetic weakness…"
"Stop speaking words that aren't yours," Padmé watched him shrewdly. "You always use words that aren't yours because you don't formulate your own opinions. Isn't being a mindless puppet a weakness in itself? Can't you think for yourself?"
Vader looked slightly annoyed by her remark. "Of course I can think for myself."
"You sure don't act it sometimes."
"There are some matters for which I have no opinion. No opinion is needed; the matter isn't important enough to merit my attention."
"Such as your opinion on your family?"
"That's not important."
Padmé felt her heart ache. Before she would have become angry; now it was just depressing hearing him say that. "Why? Because the emperor said so?"
Vader shrugged. "What does my family have to do with any of my missions?"
"Family serves as a foundation for your entire life, for all of society." Padmé explained. "If that's not important, I don't know what is. If family wasn't your foundation, then what was?"
"The emperor," Vader answered in a heartbeat.
"That's when your training began," Padmé said, shaking her head. "What helped you stand your ground before him? What gave you purpose, stability, love, comfort? What made you think that you didn't need all of that? There had to be some point where you still knew what it meant to be human."
"I've always been his servant."
"Then what about your family?"
"What about them?"
"What was their purpose in life?"
Vader looked away.
Padmé was suddenly struck with a realization. "Besides, if you aren't a person, then how can you even have a family?"
"It's the term used for the appropriate unit of people," Vader met her gaze this time; whatever had bothered him before was no longer being discussed. "A man and a woman produce a child. That's the family unit."
Padmé laughed sadly. He spoke about it as if it were some sort of foreign concept he learned in a class. But it was time to try and make him trip up. She had to say something that would trigger some sort of memory or conversation that didn't match up with what he was saying. "So your parents taught you that the only reason you were born was to serve the emperor."
Vader nodded.
Padmé felt her gut clench. Surely he was exaggerating, lying, something… no parent would ever say that to their youngling. Ever. She didn't even know what to say now except to call him out on his lie. "No. They didn't."
"Yes, he did."
He? "Your father?"
Vader studied his menu intently.
"Your father actually said that?" Padmé pressed on, in denial over the realization. "He couldn't have—who says that?"
"I'm a means to an end, milady. End of story." Vader looked at her, and his tone held finality to it. He would discuss this no further. "I'm not a person. So stop making me one."
Padmé watched him, and the two held a look. His eyes were hard, his face like stone. He didn't want to back down from this. But this wasn't some firm confident look; his fists were balled, one pulling at his trousers and the other holding the menu. Holding on to her own resolve, she made her defiance known. "You're wrong. I'm not trying to make you a person. You already are one. I'm trying to help you realize that."
"Why?"
Funny that he didn't argue the point. But now she had to give a reason, and honestly, she herself was still searching for one. Yes, it was the principle of the matter. Yes, Darth Vader—just like any other person—deserved respect. Yes, his predicament was the saddest she'd ever heard. Was that all enough of an explanation, enough of a reason to do this impossible venture?
Why was she even asking herself this? She already knew the answer. She'd known since two nights ago. "Because you're a person. Because you deserve better than what you think of yourself."
"So you would do this for anyone?"
Something about that question held another meaning to it. Padmé watched him carefully. He wasn't just asking if she was a do-gooder. So what was he asking? She suddenly recalled that every time she caught him off guard in a genuinely good way, it was always when she acknowledged that he was worth the time, the noticing. Him. Darth Vader. He wasn't asking if she'd help anyone. He was asking if she'd help him for his sake, not just because she'd do that for anybody. But… that was why she was helping: because she would do that for anyone. Was Vader any different, apart from their insane circumstances? She certainly was fairly invested in him, having been trying to get to know him for the past week and a half… but she wasn't sure if she even knew who Darth Vader truly was, even after all of this. Was he really just this droid with flesh that claimed to be everything that Palpatine needed? Or did he actually have a personality in there somewhere? Padmé didn't find him abhorrent; just… she didn't know what to think of him. But it seemed like this question Vader was asking was critical; if she answered this wrong, he might very well shut her out permanently. But she couldn't lie about this, either.
"Be honest with me, milord. Be absolutely honest." She said slowly. "Don't avoid any of my questions. Don't pull any punches. Don't lie. Don't hide. Don't dodge." Then she took a deep breath. "Who are you to you? Not what are you, but who? And then, what are you to yourself, and why?"
"I'm Darth Vader, second-in-command of the Empire." Vader answered slowly, obviously trying to figure out where she was taking this. He seemed to understand the gravity of the conversation, though, and he was at least—so far—answering sincerely. "I'm a weapon of the emperor."
Padmé waited for him to continue. When he seemed to be wiggling out of the last part of her question, she repeated it. "Why?"
"Haven't we already brought this up?" he asked, sounding exasperated.
"Until you can answer that question, I can't answer yours," Padmé said with finality. And it was true; she couldn't formulate any opinion of him that would distinguish him from anyone else she'd helped if he didn't give her a logical explanation for his opinion of himself.
Vader was silent for a long time, and the arrival of the waitress extended the pause in the conversation. After the waitress had left, Padmé continued to watch him intently until he finally seemed to figure out what he wanted to say. "My heritage is my reason. I can tell you nothing more than that. I'm sorry."
And for once, he did sound genuinely sorry. He wanted to tell her. He was dying to tell her. The yearning was all over his face, but it slowly dissipated, carefully hidden under his usual calmness. "Why can't you tell me more?"
Vader shook his head. "Perhaps after Naboo… but not now. I can't tell you now."
So that was it? They'd hit a dead end? Was all this time spent trying to get to know him wasted?
Padmé shook her head. Of course not. Had she really learned nothing about him since their arrival on Naboo? It had only been a week and a half, but it had felt like a year had passed; the change between them was phenomenal. She'd gone from just viewing him as a murderer to actually acknowledging his humanity and insisting he'd acknowledge it as well. But he was still just Darth Vader, just a faceless Sith Lord. She had to piece this together; surely he'd given her enough to manage something. His heritage was his reason for thinking he was basically a droid? He didn't deny that it was his father who instilled the idea in him, so that was likely the case. So when he was younger his father had told him that? Or was it…?
"Did the governor teach you that?" she asked. "Did he tell you that you were nothing but a servant of the emperor?"
"The governor simply took care of me. He aided me on my early missions. He made sure I didn't die. That was his duty."
"Under the emperor's orders, I presume."
Vader nodded. So it wasn't Tarkin, then. It had to be his father. Who else could "he" be, certainly in terms of family? Vader had already said he had no siblings. But where did his mother play into all this? Was that why he didn't care about his family? They'd instilled this sense of nothingness inside him, and so he felt nothing for them in return? What a sick thing to do – who says that to their own youngling?
Well for now that would be all she could get out of him about his origins. She allowed them to spend the rest of their time at the café in silence. If she could find a way to get through that thick skull of his long enough to make him experience some of the pleasures of life then she could probably get a better feel for him, who he really was. He'd admitted weaknesses to her, she'd grant him that, but… she needed more.
As the two left the café, Padmé allowed herself a reprieve from thinking about the Sith Lord and turned her attention to her surroundings. If there was one place she'd wanted to visit since deciding to come here, it was the spa; she wanted to get all the tension out of her muscles. And by the stars, she was dying to see how Darth Vader would react to getting a spa treatment. She had to keep herself sane somehow, after all, and laughing her head off at his expense was certainly one way of doing it. That was assuming he'd even do anything amusing, of course; he could just be his usual stubborn unemotional self, which would ruin all the fun. She could hope, though.
Her hopes weren't unfounded. As soon as she suggested the spa, he immediately gave her a befuddled expression mixed with disgust. "The spa?"
"My muscles are sore," Padmé argued, hiding a laugh. "Surely you can agree that sore muscles aren't conducive to good training."
Vader bit his lip. She'd beat him with his logic, and he didn't like it. "Fair enough. Where shall I meet you afterwards?"
"You're not meeting me anywhere," Padmé corrected him, and she couldn't hide her smile. "You're going to enjoy a nice relaxing spa session as well."
"My muscles are fine." Vader immediately argued with a little force in his voice.
"Do you have some sort of problem with the spa?" Padmé asked with a smirk.
Vader huffed. "I don't see the point in it. That place is for nothing but recreation."
"I just said it would help with my muscles."
"Yes, but I'm in perfect shape."
"You've never had a massage, have you?" Padmé laughed. "Believe me, you're not in perfect shape until you've had one. And with the amount of tension you had in you this morning, you need a massage."
"A massage solves nothing."
"Before this morning you would have said a hug solves nothing." Padmé faced him fully, crossing her arms. She had him cornered. "But it calmed you down."
Vader's mouth twitched. He looked slightly flustered. "That's… that's because you've got that weird touch."
Padmé felt her eyebrows shoot to her hairline. "I've got what?"
"I've seen it with people. It happens a lot when people are crying; somebody who isn't crying touches the person who is, and that seems to help…"
Padmé was about to explain that it's called comfort, but honestly she was interested to hear his explanation. "Why do you think that's the case?"
Vader shrugged, mulling it over. "I… I'm not sure. Maybe people have bizarre non-crying healing powers. I don't know. When you touched me before it never felt like that. Not that it matters—I can't cry, anyway."
"Why are you so uncomfortable with touch?" Padmé asked. She was certain she'd asked this before, but she'd never really gotten a straight answer out of him.
Vader shrugged. "I just don't see the reason to it. On Imperial Center it's protocol to not make contact with someone you don't know well. No one knows me."
"I thought you wanted me to get to know you."
He suddenly blushed. "That's now. Besides, it's still weird. I just don't see the point in it. And you… you make my vitals… I don't… it's not normal."
Padmé laughed so hard she was afraid her gut would burst. The passerby gave her strange looks, and Vader only grew grumpy.
"What's so funny?" he asked irritably.
"You really haven't dealt with women much, have you?" she managed to ask between roars of laughter.
Vader blushed and looked away, his eyes darkening.
Padmé finally managed to calm down to an acceptable level; at least people weren't looking at her as if she were insane. "Stars, milord… how old are you? I know women aren't as accepted in military positions, but… by heaven, have you really not dealt with women at all? Not once?"
Vader shrugged. "I've interacted with female personnel before."
But none of them were trying to flirt with you. By the stars, Padmé was even more clueless than Vader – how did she not see the signs? No wonder he was uncomfortable, though a normal person probably still would have been more inviting to the feeling. Oh, well; it was a long established fact by now that Vader wasn't normal.
"Come on," she eventually said, resuming their walk. "Let's go the spa."
Padmé was more than happy to reach their destination. After finally coaxing Vader into the building the Imperial stood around somewhat impatiently as Padmé arranged appointment times for them. The Twi'lek at the front desk advised that they could relax in the large hot tub while they were waiting for their scheduled appointments, which gave them a good half hour. Padmé happily agreed that was a good idea and dragged Vader towards the dressing rooms.
"Since when was a hot tub part of the plan?" Vader asked loudly. As a result most of the inhabitants hushed him with intense glares and violent hisses; spas, after all, were supposed to be quiet environments. The venomous look the Sith Lord gave them in return almost made Padmé burst out laughing again. Instead, she pinched his arm to get his attention, making him jump.
"It's a good way to pass the time while we're waiting, and it's still relaxing." She explained softly. After finding the dressing rooms, she shoved Vader into the men's room and dressed in a provided swimsuit before going into the hot tub. The warmth soothed her aching arms and legs and she sighed deeply in contentment just as she heard someone else enter the room.
"I still don't see the point in this."
"Shhh!"
Padmé ducked her head under water so she wouldn't lose her composure after half the room hushed the impudent Sith Lord. When she emerged she saw Vader entering the water—fully clothed.
"No, don't—" she quietly tried to advise him when several attendants rushed over, looking frantic.
"Sir, you can't enter the water like that—"
"Sir, you need to go to the dressing room—"
"Be silent, I'll do as I please." Vader snapped, waving them off. They continued to argue, and Padmé hastily came over.
"It's okay," she said to the attendants. "I'll get him to change."
"That's useless for training." Vader folded his arms irritably. "Nobody goes on a mission in their swim trunks."
"If you're very well prepared you do," Padmé rolled her eyes. "Just change clothes or don't come into the water; you're going to get us both thrown out."
Vader huffed and sulked off. When he returned he quickly entered the water and said, "All right, now here's the scenario. Each person in here is an enemy."
Padmé couldn't help it; she let out a bark of a laugh, making everyone throw death glares in her direction. She winced and apologized softly in embarrassment, but Vader only made the situation worse.
"We can do underwater subterfuge, I suppose. See the fat one in the corner? He's your target. Swim to him underwater without being detected and then pull him under."
"What?" Padmé looked at him in astonishment.
Vader shrugged. "I didn't say drown him; just pull him under. He's got enough buoyancy to handle himself."
Padmé sighed heavily. "You really need to learn tact."
The next twenty minutes were spent arguing why training in an enormous hot tub full of other clients was not a good idea. Padmé was relieved when it was finally time for their appointments. She dragged Vader out of the pool (after searching for the kriffing idiot since any moment not arguing was spent underwater shoving random people around with the Force) and pushed him towards the showers. "Go clean up. I'll meet you in the waiting room. Remember to wear the robe, not your street clothes."
"I'm not exposing myself to strangers."
"It's for a blasted massage."
"How can you trust them? What if they add something toxic to the mixture they put on you during the body treatment?"
"What reason would they have to do that?"
"You don't know them. They may know more about you than you realize. You're relatively recognizable, you know."
"These people are paid for their discretion, milord, and I haven't been in office long enough to merit recognition. No one would know me as queen because of my makeup."
Vader sulked. "I still don't trust them."
"Put. The robe. On."
"Fine."
Relaxation finally came when Padmé was taken into a private room and given the massage she'd been waiting for all day. It was so nice to just have a moment to herself, and she let her mind be totally clear; no thinking about the Rebel Alliance, the Empire, Darth Vader, anything of the sort. Her mind lingered on her family, but she just exhaled and assumed the best. She was too tired to worry anymore. The massage was allowing her that moment of peace that she'd needed since CC4.
After what seemed an eternity, she finally reentered the lounge and waited for Vader while sipping some tea that was provided for her. Eventually the wait began to take too long, though. A little worried, Padmé asked what room Vader was in and went there. When she knocked and entered, the masseuse was sitting politely and silently in the corner, staring at the wall. Vader was nowhere to be found. Watching the masseuse confusedly, Padmé asked, "What are you doing?"
"I'm sitting here quietly and contemplating the universe." The woman replied in a dazed tone. "It's a beautiful thing, you know. The universe."
"Right," Padmé slowly replied, taking a few hesitant steps back. What was wrong with that woman?
"There you are."
Jumping with a yelp, Padmé whirled around. Vader was in the doorway, still in nothing but a robe and slippers. "What—where were you? You were supposed to be getting a massage in here."
"I wanted to ensure this place was legitimate." Vader replied shrewdly, looking suspicious. "And I didn't want her touching me."
Padmé rolled her eyes. "Of course it's legitimate. Besides, a massage won't kill you… we just need to get another masseuse… was she like this when you got here?"
Vader waved his hand towards the masseuse. "You can get back to work now."
The woman blinked quickly a few times and then shook her head slightly. "Right. I can get back to work now."
Padmé felt the pit of her stomach churn as the masseuse stood and walked by them, presumably to find another client. Then she glanced at Vader. "Did you do that?"
Vader nodded. "Let's go."
Padmé snorted. "Shouldn't you change first?"
"I'm going to. Meet me outside."
"I paid for you to get a massage," Padmé argued a little indignantly. "You're not wasting my money."
"I don't want them touching me."
Padmé grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the room, closing the door. "Then I'll massage you. Now lie down on the blasted table."
Vader hesitantly sat on the table, staring at her to see what she'd do next. He obviously didn't know what a massage entailed. Then Padmé abruptly realized a slight problem. "Um, right, you'll have to take that off. I can just face the wall…"
"Why do I have to take it off?"
"Because that's how the massage works, you big shaak!"
Vader gave her a grumpy look and immediately began to untie the sash holding the robe. Padmé quickly whirled around to face the wall. After a few moments she asked, "Are you covered?"
"But you said take it off."
"Then lie on the table and put a towel over you!" Padmé nearly beat her head into the wall. Eventually she heard him shift around and then relax. "You ready?"
"I suppose…?"
When Padmé turned around she immediately felt goose bumps rise all along her body. Vader was on his stomach, and he had appropriately covered himself, but he was propped up on his arms, gazing at her curiously. Her automatic reaction changed, however, when she saw minute details she hadn't noticed before when she'd seen him shirtless. There were scabbed tears everywhere along his back, scarring horribly. His left arm had the same strange pink tree-shaped marking as his foot, but it surrounded a terrible looking burn that seared from his upper arm into his shoulder. Occasionally his back bore the same marking and it trailed all the way from his leg to his foot. It was nearly faded into his skin, which was far different from when it was more noticeable when she'd seen it during their picnic nearly a week ago.
Walking up to him, she traced her hand along the mark. It felt rougher than the rest of his skin. He shuddered slightly under her touch. "What is this, milord?"
"Burn. It's healing."
Padmé immediately removed her hand. "I'm sorry—I didn't—does it hurt?"
"Not really."
"I've never seen a burn leave a pattern like this," she muttered, looking at the marking once again.
Vader didn't seem too eager to explain the situation, and Padmé felt a little woozy. His reticence spoke volumes. She knew where he'd gotten this, though how he got it was another story entirely. Somehow this was the emperor's fault. She slowly stepped closer to him and pushed gently against his shoulder blades. "Just lay flat, milord. I won't hurt you."
Vader relented, and she finally began to massage the coarseness out of his muscles. He was tense initially, but he soon relaxed. She smiled at the reaction. "See? I told you it wasn't so bad."
"It feels funny."
Padmé chuckled and the two were silent. This was surprisingly cathartic for her as well. Her eyes still lingered on the burn, though. "Why would the emperor allow you to be hurt like that?"
Vader didn't reply for a few seconds, but eventually he said, "I didn't move fast enough."
Padmé paused. "He was punishing you for being slow? But what sort of machine leaves a mark like this?"
"Lightning."
Padmé blanched. "Lightning? Were you training at a lightning spire or something?"
Vader said nothing. Eventually Padmé resumed the massage, but she let the question linger in the air for a while longer. It was Vader, though, who changed the subject.
"What does it feel like?"
Confused, she leaned over a little to look him in the eye. "What does what feel like?"
"Loving someone." He elaborated, watching her sincerely.
Padmé felt her heart clench. Moving her hand slowly, she traced his jaw and caressed his cheek with her thumb. He was either unaware of the maneuver or thought it was part of the massage since he didn't react to it.
She wanted to tell him so much. She wanted to show him how amazing and wonderful love was, how love was what really was needed in this galaxy. She wanted to tell him everything. But love was something that one couldn't really explain; she could try her best, though. She was a politician; using words to her advantage was her forte. "It's like having trust, security, friendship, happiness, joy, and a sense of peace all wrapped together. It's like always knowing someone will be there for you and always wanting to be there for that person. It's the most important feeling you could ever experience, and it saves lives. A lack of love is what garners so much hatred and despair in this galaxy."
Vader looked away. "The emperor always said love was a weakness to be exploited. He said anyone who had it could be broken into so many pieces you could scatter them like dust. It's one of your most powerful allies."
Padmé held back a good number of choice words she had for the emperor. She crouched further so she and Vader were at equal eye level. "Love is a powerful ally; without it you have very little to no support. Any kind of tragedy or setback in life could put you in a very dark place without it."
"The darkness is my ally."
Growing both desperate and frustrated, Padmé asked, "Then why did you bother asking in the first place?"
Vader's eyes glazed over, as if he were looking within himself. "I… wanted to compare."
"Compare?" she repeated. Did he actually feel something? Who did he feel love for?
Taking a deep breath, Vader placed his hands on the table and began to sit up. Padmé looked away long enough for him to put his robe back on, and then she simply watched him stand and head for the door. Both were in a trance, both were caught in their own thoughts. Eventually Padmé wandered into the lounge and awaited Vader's return. When he came in his street clothes, she nodded to him and walked alongside him towards the exit. Eventually, she asked, "Milord, what do you think about love? Not the emperor, but you."
Vader paused. Without turning to her, he said softly, "I… I know he's right. Love is a prison. It leaves you with everything… and nothing. And it always takes pieces of you away from yourself… until there's nothing left of you. Nothing."
His words tore into her. His voice was so quiet, and it held just a slight tremor in it. He knew what he was talking about. He knew of love. He'd felt it before.
"What happened?" she asked, watching him intensely.
Vader continued to watch the sky as the sun kissed the horizon. "We require food. It's getting late."
"Don't shut me out." Padmé insisted, stepping directly in front of him. "Just tell me."
Vader closed his eyes. Then he shook his head. "Food. We need food. Then sparring. Then sleep."
He was tired. He was stressed. This topic was bothering him a lot. His fingers were madly playing with his tunic, and she could tell his hands were trembling. She held his arms steady. "It's okay, milord. You can talk to me."
Vader swayed in place as if suddenly dizzy. Padmé increased her grip, alarmed. He shook his head once more. "Food."
Nodding, Padmé took him by the hand; maybe that was why he was suddenly dizzy. "Okay, let's go."
They found a lovely restaurant full of the New Year's festivities. A band was merrily playing, there was a dance floor packed full of people, and they were lucky enough to get the last available table. After sitting, Padmé watched Vader carefully. He was still trembling, and he looked pale. His gaze was swift, shifting from person to person without even looking them over. He wasn't looking at anything or for anything. He either really was ravenous or their conversation bothered him a lot. Or both. He probably didn't like feeling this way in public, so she decided she'd save that particular conversation for the villa. Instead, she tried resuming their discussion from lunch. She recalled that he'd asked her if she was helping him only because he was a person, or because he was him. She hadn't been able to answer; she hadn't had a clear picture of who Darth Vader really was.
Honestly, part of her problem was that she simply hadn't had (or made, she thought a little regretfully) the time to mull over everything that she'd learned about him, certainly since he'd finally broken down on the ship. But she knew what would be better than simply thinking about what she'd pieced together. "Milord, do you know what I see when I look at you?"
Vader raised an eyebrow, beckoning her to continue.
She took a deep breath, compiling all of her experiences with him into one coherent picture of the man sitting across from her. As she did so, she was surprised to find quite a bit hidden amongst his unflappable veneer. "I see a man who loves flying—heck, who loves working machinery in general if your insistence on driving the boat is any indication. I also see a man who seems to love proving people wrong; when I said that I was a better driver than you, you challenged me to a race. I see a man who is gentle enough to allow me to lead him around, but who has an iron will and more stubbornness than anyone I know. I see a man who puts his heart and soul into everything he does. I see a man who wants to be loved, who wants to be needed, who feels so deeply he gets burned. I see a man who wants to share his life with someone and feel like he's worth something."
Well, stang. She supposed she did know him more than she thought. Apparently she knew him more than he knew himself; the look of pure astonishment and even wonder on his face was indicative of that. Then he scrunched his nose. "Gentle?"
Oops, she probably shouldn't have used that word, even if it was true. "I meant politely acquiescent."
Vader gave her a shrewd look that screamed he knew she was covering her flub, but he didn't vocalize the fact. At least he looked a little healthier than when they'd initially sat down. To make him feel a little more like he hadn't made himself look like some adorable, harmless little puppy, she added, "I also see a highly intelligent man, a strategist, and a warrior. I see a man who can easily carry the weight of the Empire on his shoulders without flinching, even if he is falling to pieces on the inside."
She probably shouldn't have added the last part, but by heaven it was true.
Vader looked at his hands, blushing slightly, and then back at her, unsure of what to say. Eventually, he whispered, "You can see all that?"
"Yes," she whispered.
He processed her words, still not sure how to reply. Eventually he just flipped it on her. "You said this morning you wanted to see through my eyes. When I look at you, I see a woman worthy of my notice. I see an intelligent, charismatic, strong woman. I see someone who has many secrets and who wishes to keep them, but someone at the same time who wants to share herself. Someone who's lonely. Someone who has so much potential. Someone who has a great chance to live and a great chance to die. Someone who could be so much more if she just… stayed with the right people."
If you stay with me was the unspoken sentiment. Padmé watched him for a long time after he finished. The world around them faded into nothingness. After an eternity, she said, "Yes."
Vader gave her a puzzled look.
"I would do this for anyone." Padmé explained, bringing up his question from brunch. "But that's not why I'm helping you. I'm doing this for you. I want to help you."
As she spoke, a slow waltz began to play. Rising, she held out her hand to him with an inviting smile. Mesmerized, Vader took her hand and the two went to the dance floor and waltzed together, lost in each other's eyes. Darkness hung on the horizon and began to overtake the night sky. Darkness lingered between the two of them. But in that moment, the soft light of the candles was enough to keep the darkness at bay. And all they saw was each other.
Finally all that character development is coming together, haha. At least I hope so. Let me know what you think! ;)