Angel of the Morning - Part II

There'll be no strings to bind your hands
Not if my love can't bind your heart
There's no need to take a stand
For it was I who chose to start

Maybe the sun's light will be dim
And it won't matter anyhow

Padme held the patio door open, with a picnic basket in hand, for Luke and Leia to pass through. Leia carried the cups while her brother grabbed the blanket.

Once the twins stepped foot outside, they stood motionless at what awaited them – or, rather, who awaited them.

Occupying the space in the middle of the terrace, was Vader.

"What's he doing here?!" Leia jumped down her mother's throat, demanding an answer.

"Well," Padme said casually. "I thought we could all hang out... Together."

Before the dust could settle, a "No!" came screaming out of Leia as she ran back inside.

Padme rubbed her forehead with a hopeless look in her eyes, pushing a loose strand of her hair back in the process. From the outside, Padme might have come across quite blase with her eyes almost drooped shut. But the truth was, it was just so mentally taxing to deal with it all, and she hated seeing her kids have to endure the same emotional struggles.

She turned to Luke, wondering whether there was a chance that one of her kids would be open to the opportunity. But Luke huffed in response to her unspoken request.

"I'm with Leia." He confessed, offhandedly, following his sister to their room.

Vader remained in his spot, not really knowing how to react, hiding his disappointment. He looked over at Padme, who sighed sluggishly.

"Give us a second." She commented as she headed inside.

"Wanna talk about it?" Padme gradually entered the room. Both her children sat on Luke's bed – Leia with her arms folded and Luke fiddling with one of his toys.

Padme was met with nothing but irritable exhales.

"Wanna try using your words?" She tried again, joining them at the foot of the bed.

"He ruined everything!" Leia belted out. "Just when we were starting to..." Her voice trailed off and Padme could see her daughter was mourning the bond she had made. It was hard for Leia because she wasn't as vocal about her own pain as her brother. She swallowed a lot of it down while he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. Being so closed off, it took her longer to open up to the possibility of a relationship with her father and it hurt that much more when he let her down.

Padme took her daughter's hand in hers. "This doesn't have to be it."

Leia's eyes were downcast, and Luke just shook his head.

"After what he did to you, it's over." He hissed.

Padme got comfortable, lying across the end of the bed, leaning up on her elbow.

"I appreciate all this very much." She spoke with gratitude. "But you don't have to protect me."

Padme's gaze traveled over both of them. "If you wanted. . .my issues with him don't have to be your issues."

"Why are you defending him?" Luke blurted.

"I'm not." Padme assured, calmly. "Look... I'm not going to lie to you, your father has done some terrible things. But. . .he also gave me two of the most important things in my life." She pointed her finger at each of them, playfully swirling it in circles, with the intent of getting them to crack a smile and to see those sets of bright white teeth.

"So," She continued. "–maybe you can get something meaningful out of this too."

They looked like they were taking in their mother's words but their voices failed them.

Padme didn't want to push them further. "...You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." Her eyes flickered from one child to the other, hoping they felt comfortable enough to open up to her. She didn't want them to bottle up any more emotions than they already have.

Both twins' gazes finally collided with their mother's.

"But you're upset." She admitted. "You feel like you lost something?"

They both quickly looked away. Silence hung between them.

"Maybe that means you had something to lose." Padme did her best to make sure her delivery was as gentle and nourishing as can be. "So whatever you had with him, it's up to you if it's worth fighting for."

"They're not ready." Padme affected a compassionate tone, as she rejoined Vader on the terrace. "Give them some time."

"Thanks for trying." He replied earnestly. His gaze trained on her. "You didn't have to."

"I know." She spoke with a lazy drawl.

Vader took a couple of wandering steps around the terrace, his hands tucked under his cape – and it was eerily familiar. For a second, she pictured Anakin and how he'd lug himself around with his hands buried in the sleeves of his cloak when conflicted.

"...Do you think some things are just unforgivable?" He finally stopped meandering.

"I don't know. Honestly." She shrugged, traipsing around a bit herself. "But I hope that even in your worst moments, there's some good in there." Her eyes met his mask before fluttering up and down his suit, wearily. "I have to believe that. . .for their sake."

He found himself instantly heading towards her. His stare steadfast, as his eyes roam down her body leisurely, taking in her tight curves. She couldn't sense his eyes softening under the mask.

He leaned forward, invading a bit of her space, close enough to make her want to step back – but she didn't. Instead her eyes made their way up to his lenses, struggling to move away – slightly fearful, uptight and confused.

After a second of hesitation, he fingers grazed her neck as he brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, scooping it off her neck. She stood completely still, anchored by his touch. But she couldn't hide her nerves. The last time she felt the leather fabric of his gloves against her flesh, he deprived her of air.

He got a good look at her neck, his eyes glued to the now fading marks that were his own doing, and he felt sick.

"I'm sorry." He finally released. His finger drawing across the most obvious blemish. "I know it doesn't mean much. . .but for what it's worth, I never meant to hurt you."

She couldn't appreciate how feathery light his touch was. She hated his hand lingering over her collarbone. But what she hated most of all was how it unraveled her. She felt like she was coming apart at the seams.

"I don't want to hurt you." His voice dropped.

"I know." The sound that came out of her was barely above an exhale. She could hear the uneven cadence in her breaths. "You don't mean to. But you do." She found the courage to tear his hand away.

With a subtle nod of compliance, he gave her space and left.

Her fingers stiffly grazed the spot he had caressed on her neck, feeling vulnerable and exposed. Her eyes fell closed upon hearing the door to his throne room shut behind him.

Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, darling

Then slowly turn away

I won't beg you to stay

With me

Juice Newton - Angel of the Morning