here's a short one... but i think im back on track now.
big thank you's to those of you lovely enough to review- jedi71, padawan sydney bristow, DarthGladiator45, penpadme, Amylion, Ebony StarStorm, & padmeamidala1202! xoxox.
ya know, someone told me once that its a fanfic sin to read & not review! wink wink nudge nudge
17. In Dreams
For an entire week, Lord Vader and Aurren Farr went through the motions. They would meet early in the kitchen, sometimes he would arrive first, sometimes she would, and then he would lead her out to the ship to depart for the day. They would spend hours in what Vader considered a mutually agreed upon but never spoken about silence. He already knew that her silence wasn't from her fear of him, she simply had nothing to say. As for himself, he found that he had lots of things to say, tons of things he wanted to ask, but could never get the words to pass his lips.
For an entire week he watched her. He took note of every detail, not just the physical manifestations such as what she dressed in or how she wore her hair or what sweet scent she wearing that day (though he could spend hours on just that), he also noted her moods and sometimes lingered in her thoughts. He had come to realize that when she was tired she would take off her shoes and fold her legs under her in the seat, then with her elbows on her knees, prop her head up as if it were a way to keep awake. When she was thinking- technically that is, about the project- he noticed that she would bite her fingernails. When she was absently thinking about other things, she would stare out the window and twirl whatever hair hung loose around her face around her fingers. When she spoke to him, she always would look at him directly- almost as if she could see through the mask- and sometimes, he would almost forgot he was wearing it when they would have a lengthy conversation. It was as intimate to him as true eye contact, even though he knew she had no clue what hid under the black façade.
Though more often than not the ship was filled with silence, he had managed to speak with her enough to get a better understanding of what kind of person she was. He loved to talk to her about her work. He had been on quite a few of the bases she had designed in the past few years, and was fascinated to hear her speak about all of the advanced capabilities of each stronghold. His mind was simply boggled when he realized that each of them were unique in design, even though they seemed similar. It was part of her secure design. In the past, all of the bases were of simple, uniform design. Aurren had changed the design- only slightly- for each. Enough to make it seem like they were all identical, but different enough from one another completely different warning and security systems were in each.
She was technically minded- much like he was- and he enjoyed listening to someone else talk about weapons systems, electronics, security controls, and the like with as much passion as he once spoke with. It almost made him feel…alive again. At times he felt giddy when he found himself getting excited and wrapped up in the conversation. At times he felt like a teenager again, geeking out over new technology, and he found it very hard to sit there silently and not simply gush along with her. He wished he could just be a normal person sitting next to her in that ship, not Darth Vader. He just wanted to have a normal conversation for once with someone who he felt was actually worthy of discoursing with.
Though she seemed to be passionate about her work in the security end of architecture with all of its advanced technology that normal plebeians wouldn't understand, after a time, he realized that it wasn't exactly passion for it, but something of a unwanted obsession that stemmed back to the insecurity she had felt her whole life. He didn't need her to tell him that for him to know, and he didn't need to read her thoughts. At times she seemed almost disgusted by the lengths taken security wise. When she told him about several unique bases she had designed prior to her being commissioned to work on his palace, he was almost overwhelmed with the systems she had implemented, and even a few she had created herself. She understood security, she had a mind that could contrive new ways to keep a being safe that others couldn't even begin to fathom, and part of her seemed to loathe it.
As much as he loved talking to her about technology and mechanics, he loved the sparkle in her eye when she spoke about beautiful places she loved, like the Alderiaan Royal Palace and the Library and Archives, or the lakeside villas of Naboo she had only seen in holo-vids or in books, even more. Sometimes, when the ship was silent, he would ask her about what inspired her in her work. She would gaze out the window and tell him about the exotic palaces and temples and other buildings on various planets- most of which had been destroyed during the clone wars. She would tell him in a slightly dreamy voice about the beauty of the places, describing them in such detail that he felt he could see each delicate carving, feel the wood and stone and metal and fabrics under his fingertips, smell the heady scent of each garden.
At the end of each sojourn, he would lead her back to the house. He had grown accustomed to this, and comfortable with it, and even took comfort in it. It was just the simple notion of physical contact with another human being. He hadn't realized that going so long without so much as a simple touch- a handshake or even this- escorting someone- was such a big thing. For now, he took pleasure in the few moments each day in which she would willingly allow him to take her hand. It was an innocent form of contact, but he felt as if his heart thawed slightly each time he looked down to see her small hands wrapped around his arm and felt the heat of her fingers through his robes.
Each evening, they would enter the villa through the greenhouse, and then once in the kitchen, he would take her leave, rushing up to his rooms to think about everything. In the morning, it would repeat all over again.
On the eighth day, the routine was once again the same. Upon leaving Aurren in the kitchen that evening, Vader did the same as the previous nights, storming up to his rooms and locking the door securely behind him. Aurren on the other hand, did something she had thought that she wouldn't. She located the vast library in the west wing of the estate and sat down in front of a very high tech computer system. She let her eyes fall over its sleek lines and smiled when she thought about how much she liked the fact that this home looked as if it had be preserved from centuries ago- yet still had all of the modern (cutting edge modern at that) amenities that she had grown accustomed to on the starship.
Seated at the large mahogany desk, the once dark screen came to life and she accessed the Holo-Net. For a moment she hesitated, but then in the search screen, she entered the words "Alderaan Royal Archives." In a split second she was barraged with images of the archives she grew up in. A week ago, if one had asked Aurren if she would ever visit the capitol city again, she would have said no… but now was a different story. She had come to grips with everything and now she wanted to visit all of the things in her past that she had actually enjoyed. For now, she would settle for reading about it on the Holo-Net, but she planned on asking Vader for permission to leave the estate on a day trip to the city.
After about an hour, she had learned that several of the Royal Architects who were so kind to her at a young age were still employed by the government and working out of the Archives. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the chronometer on the desk, and noting the late hour shut down the unit and went to bed. A smile crept across her face as she thought about being reunited with her old mentors.
Once in her quarters, she took a leisurely shower, then slid a nightgown over her head and climbed into the big bed. Snuggling into the soft sheets, she thought about how to ask Vader for permission to leave the estate and spend a day in the city. She didn't think long about that, but lingered on thoughts of him. The past few days, she realized, had been very strange. She felt her face flush when she thought about how casual she caught herself being with him at times. It was a strange sensation to think back on the moments where his voice seemed to grow tender and distant, such a stark contrast in every way to the man he seemed to portray.
In his own rooms, Lord Vader was lost in fitful sleep. His mechanical hand clenched unmercifully at the sheets that loosely pooled around his waist. His head tossed from side to side, his face a mask of pain. His breathing began to come in heavy pants as sweat ran in rivulets off of his forehead mingling with streams of tears from his eyes.
Suddenly, he shot straight up in his bed, his breath fast and labored his eyes wide and panic-stricken. He blinked rapidly as if it would somehow erase what he had just seen from his mind. This was not happening to him again.