Thank you to everyone who reviewed and messaged me during this unplanned hiatus. It was your encouragement and interest in the story that caused me to publish this chapter today. I appreciate you all so much and I look forward to hearing your thoughts! Merry Christmas and a very happy New Year.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The black metallic doors gleamed in the early morning sun, the light reflecting brilliantly from the polished surface. In red robes and helmets set on fire by the sun's brightness, two elite royal guards flanked the doors, staring silently at the window that ran ceiling to floor in front of the Emperor's throne room, their gaze turned decidedly away from the solitary figure waiting before them. Lord Darth Vader waited for those forbidding doors to open.
Resisting the urge to adjust his black robes and cloak for the millionth time, he focused on staring at his blurred reflection on the glassy surface of the doors. He was nothing but a shadow with the suggestion of a face, blurred beyond recognition and edged by the golden brilliance of the sunlight streaming through the window behind him. He couldn't feel the sun's warmth.
Palpatine's icy presence filled the room beyond. He could feel him inside the throne room, his presence always pulling with the impossibly cold and irresistible force of a black hole. He brutally suppressed a shiver and stared as if the force of his will would burst the doors open. But it was only a fantasy; he must wait for Palpatine's pleasure in this as in all things - particularly the matter he was about to mention.
The doors slid apart and the sunlight was swallowed up in the cavernous room, all dark floor tiles and darker curtains that allowed for no reflections and no absorbed warmth. Vader stepped inside and the doors closed behind him with a hiss. The aide that had pressed the door release bowed and slid away towards a private exit off to one side.
The throne was turned away as Vader approached and knelt before his master. The silence was long.
"Well, my young apprentice?" came his voice at last, smooth and unreadable. The throne did not turn.
"My Master, I have news... and a request."
Expectant silence. Vader swallowed and reached for his courage.
"I have asked Padme Naberrie to marry me," he began, searching the bond between himself and his master frantically for any hint of his reaction even as he pressed on. "And I have come to request your permission for such a marriage." He reached out to test Palpatine's presence, his thoughts, his emotions...
Nothing.
Not a tremor or a shiver of anything through the Force. Palpatine delighted in remaining unknowable to both friend and foe, and in being utterly unreadable, a fact that had challenged Vader's sanity on more than occasion. Vader clenched his jaws, shored up his mental shields, and tried desperately not to be afraid.
The throne turned, slowly. "Then congratulations are in order, my friend," Palpatine said, smiling at him beneath his hood.
Vader felt the mask of false calm slide from his face. "Master?" he questioned, struggling to reconcile Palpatine's vicious reaction to his attachment mere days before and his current kindly smile. Palpatine's smile shifted seamlessly into a look of pain.
"You think I would keep you from what would so obviously make you happy? Of course not, my friend. Do as you will in this matter - I have always wanted the very best for you, and this will be no exception." He waved away Vader's surprise. "Go now, Lord Vader. And convey my congratulations to Ms. Naberrie."
Vader snapped his mouth shut and stood to offer a bow. "Thank you, my Master. I am very grateful." It was possibly the most genuine speech he had ever given in his master's presence. He turned to leave, feeling fear empty out of his chest to make way for the glow of joy that would erupt the moment the throne room doors shut behind him.
"Oh, and Lord Vader?" Palpatine's voice drifted over his shoulder, carrying a chill with it. He paused.
"The previous conditions of this relationship are still in effect. If this woman or your marriage in any way interferes with your duty, loyalty, or obedience, I shall have no choice but to remove the distraction from you."
The fear returned, coiling itself tightly around his heart. "I understand, Master," he replied. The throne turned away from him, towards an enormous viewport. The audience was at an end. There could be no argument, no bargaining - this was the deal. He would take it.
Vader hurried from the throne room, chilled to the bone, terrified, and explosively happy. In the empty throne room, Palpatine smiled unseen.
Padme listened to the beeps and whirs of the machinery surrounding Bail. He had been ensconced in a hospital the night before, prodded and poked by a dozen medical droids, and finally declared fit. He was fast asleep in the starkly white hospital bed now, likely exhausted by the ministrations of the medical droids more than the actual attack... although the adrenaline and fear they had both felt had been draining, she had to admit. She would have slept far more if she hadn't been so overwhelmed by her own happiness. She blinked.
Now that was a strange thought. Too happy to sleep? She hadn't felt that way since she was a child, and she had certainly never expected to feel that way again... and then he happened. Feeling a smile pulling at her face without her permission, Padme sighed and gave up on making any sense of herself.
"Padme?" Bail asked groggily. He pulled in a deep breath and blinked. Confusion chased the sleep from his face. She saw the moment he remembered. Sitting up violently, he reached for her arm and looked her up and down. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry, Padme! Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, I'm completely fine! Please don't worry about me," she patted the hand resting on her shoulder. "They didn't hurt me. Or you, if your medics are correct." She gestured towards the monitors displaying dozens of vital signs.
"I'm fine," he said distractedly, glancing at the screens without really looking. "How did we..." He squinted as he hunted for the memory. His eyes grew wide and Padme found herself drifting back as well, her mind full of smoke from an explosion and the deadly hum of a red lightsaber.
"Lord Vader rescued us," she said in answer to his unspoken question.
Bail looked troubled. "I should thank him for saving my life."
"I thanked him for both of us," Padme replied.
Bail settled back on his pillows, grimacing as his numerous scrapes and bruises made their presence known. He lifted his gaze to Padme, and his expression was peculiarly regretful. "So you're here to resign, I take it?"
She wasn't ready to face that question - not yet. Besides, they had other things to discuss. "Bail," she began quietly, sidestepping his question, "Who were those men?"
Bail's face darkened and he suddenly looked sickly enough to belong in his hospital bed. He rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily. When he finally dropped his hand back to the crisp hospital sheets, she saw that his eyes were distant, unfocused, full of suspicion - but not of knowledge. So when he answered, "I don't know," in a weary voice, she knew he was telling the truth. It wasn't much comfort.
"Surely there must be something you can think of, someone who might have a reason to attack you-"
"Padme," he interrupted gently. "I have offended a great many people during my years in office." A tiny hint of warmth came back into his shadowed eyes. "Only the best senators have to deal with assassination attempts. I take it as a compliment."
Padme's laugh was weak, but she was relieved that Bail was in good spirits. Of course, the man was never concerned enough for his own safety, so his cavalier attitude was in no way reflective of reality. Padme sighed and made a mental note to talk to the senate security officers about the issue personally. Maybe she could even convince Bail to adopt the Nubian tradition of employing several bodyguards-
"Padme." Bail's voice was quiet, all the humor gone. He looked like a man who had experienced a close encounter with death for the first time since she had entered the room. "Are you resigning?" he asked with an air of quiet finality - the voice of a man who already knows the answer to his own question.
Padme grimaced. The glow of joy that had lingered around her all night and into the new day like a warm bacta bath suddenly drained away from her and she felt the chilly sting of reality. Time to face the consequences, she thought drearily. "Bail," she started, grasping for her next sentence. Any and all sensible statements eluded her grasp, evaporating before she could lay hold of them. You see, Lord Vader and I... But how in the galaxy to finish that sentence? He waited expectantly.
"I am here to resign - but not for the reason that you think." Bail was confused, but he waited for her explanation.
"It's not because of what happened last night - it's because... I have... a conflict of interest." She steeled herself and forced the words out. "Bail, I'm getting married."
His reaction was precisely what she would have expected. A wide, smug, but genuinely pleased smile broke across his tanned face, and Padme thought that happiness suited him. "Padme, that's wonderful! Who's the lucky guy?"
She almost couldn't say it; she was so reluctant to watch his smile break. But it was the truth, and the truth couldn't be avoided forever. She had made her choice and her choice was making her happy. She tried to remember this as she spoke. "Lord Vader."
Bail's smile froze, slipped, and finally shattered. He laughed lightly, confused. "What?" he managed, looking lost. Padme's chest tightened and she wanted to make him understand. "We've been seeing each other... and we're getting married."
"Padme, I'm glad you told me this joke in the hospital so I could have medics on hand. You almost gave me a heart attack." He tried for a smile, but never made it. He could see the truth in her eyes. "Padme, you can't be serious."
The strained concern in his voice reminded Padme of her father, and she felt tears prickle behind her eyes. "Bail, if only I could make you understand..."
"Please do."
She sighed, and struggled for words. "He's different than you think. He makes me happy." She knew how ridiculous and juvenile it all sounded, and she could read the disbelief in his eyes. It hurt her deeply. Here was the man who had given her a place to live and belong when her home was destroyed, given her a job when she had no purpose, and been her friend when she was utterly alone - and she was breaking his heart. Feeling like an ungrateful and undeserving child, she tried to explain. Starting with their chance meeting, the opera, and all the meetings since, she spoke quietly, earnestly, and willed him to understand. The pain never left his eyes, but the fear did. Padme supposed that would have to be enough.
"You love him?" He asked quietly. She nodded. "And he is kind? And treats you as well as you deserve?"
"Yes, Bail."
He sighed heavily and seemed to age in front of her. "Then you must do what you feel is right, of course." It was a weak congratulation, but she felt its significance; Bail hated Vader.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Bail sank lower in his bed, looking suddenly exhausted. "I'll let you sleep," she said, standing. She rested her hand on his shoulder and kissed his forehead. "Thank you for everything, Bail. I don't know what I would have done without you... you've been the best friend I can imagine."
"Until Vader," he said quietly and smiled sadly. She turned to leave. "Padme?"
"Yes?"
"If you ever feel that you've made a mistake... or if he ever... hurts you, I'll help you. Please don't hesitate to let me help you. Promise me that you will let me know if you need help."
"Of course, Bail."
He nodded wearily and closed his eyes. Padme's eyes filled with tears and she turned away. Love had been a balm the night before, all warmth and happiness and contentment. But today... today love was a separating force, slamming a wall between her and her friend, destroying as well as creating, and it was bitter.
She shivered and wished for Anakin.
The Dark Lord of the Sith and Emperor of the known regions of the universe was displeased.
Drifting in the shadowy currents of the future through his well-honed powers of foresight, he had noticed with growing uneasiness that in every possible future involving Padme Naberrie, events seemed to grow hazy and inscrutable, twisting right out of his grasp as though those futures did not belong to him.
He scowled, alone in his private meditation chambers. He had not expected his apprentice to take to the woman with this level of determination. He had hoped that Vader's infatuation would offer him an easy method of manipulation and control over his increasingly powerful apprentice, but he had certainly never considered that Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, his apprentice and second-in-command, would want to marry. It was preposterous, ridiculous, an insult to all the practices and creeds of the Sith. And worse, it showed far too much independent initiative and an enormous, crippling weakness.
Love. An unforgivable weakness, if ever there was one.
Stretching out again, Palpatine submerged himself in the Dark Side, sinking into the swirling eddies of the possible futures. This time he tested a possible future without Padme Naberrie... and suddenly he saw the path to take. Love was the greatest of weaknesses, the most devastating of structural flaws. Unless of course it could be removed and transformed into emotions more suited to a Sith Lord.
Opening his eyes, he gestured toward the door comm. The intercom button lit up and the voice of one of his royal guards crackled instantly to life.
"Yes, Majesty?"
"Enter," he said simply. Four red-robed guards filed in, lining up on either side of the door. He addressed the captain. "Bring me my head of intelligence. I have an assignment for him." He dismissed the squad with a negligent wave of his hand. Alone again, he smiled tightly. The plan he was just beginning to mold would require infinite care, patience, planning, and a bit of manipulation. It was fortunate that he excelled at all those things. He would set the first pieces in motion immediately, and if all went according to plan, the next few months would bring him a more obedient and loyal apprentice... and bring an end to the threat posed by Padme Naberrie.