AN:

Mercenary: Ahh I'm glad! Thank you so much xo

Guest: Oh yay! Thanks a lot xo. I'm so happy you're enjoying it so far! Yeah, I'm sure other fics are probably more star wars-y than mine :D but I like to write in my style. I'd say this one is actually more like the world's worst custody battle lol

Willow

Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife
And if it was an open-shut case
I never would've known from that look on your face
Lost in your current like a priceless wine

Padme opened up her front door to find Vader standing with a bottle of wine in hand.

"It used to be your favourite." He handed the bottle over.

"Still is." She told with warm eyes, accepting the gift.

He made slow strides to the couch as she took the bottle to the kitchen. He was immediately joined by Leia standing in front of him as he sat down beside Luke.

"Your hair looks nice." He observed his daughter's slicked back hair buns just above her ears. He then glanced at Padme and back to Leia – she was her mini-me.

"Thanks!" She quickly replied, giddy with delight about her and her mother's matching hairstyles. "Mum did it."

"Your mother always has nice hair." He agreed with a nod.

Padme returned from the kitchen. "So did you once."

He cocked an eyebrow at Padme, who now sat on the armchair beside them. He noticed a half smirk appear from the corner of her mouth. "Hitting me where it hurts."

Padme tried not to grin.

"You did love your hair." She shook her head, mocking him softly.

"I had a full head of hair!" He playfully argued.

Luke looked up at Vader, his brow furrowed. "You don't have any hair?"

Padme fidgeted awkwardly as she heard her son's innocent query. To tell your children their father was injured in a fire was hardly an easy conversation to have.

Vader moved an inch forward, bringing Leia's curiosity to the forefront as well. "I don't have eyebrows either."

Leia winced, and Padme sighed inwards. "Don't scare 'em."

Leia, unable to quieten her inquisitive mind, stood in between her father's knees, observing his suit.

She placed her little hand on his chest, while Luke hovered beside him, hanging off his arm. Padme couldn't avert her eyes. It was heartwarming to see the look on her kids' faces now that they were able to revive this connection. It was very meaningful, natural – like they had known him all their lives. They weren't shy around him. In some ways, what they went through with him ripped off the bandaid so there was no need to tiptoe around each other or play this cumbersome dance in regards to what to do or say. There was this raw honesty between them – accepting the flaws of their paternal bond.

"What do these buttons do?" Leia asked, her finger dragging down his chest.

"They switch up his voice." Padme couldn't help herself. She quickly pursed her lips, trying not to break into laughter.

Vader looked over at her, and she knew he went from unimpressed and underwhelmed by her bad joke to finding her humor endearing in a wonderfully silly way. He also noticed her smile lines were more pronounced as she got older, and that made him happy, knowing she still had things to smile about in the last decade.

He held her gaze, and suddenly she could feel him flash her a smile behind the mask, appreciating her mischievous remark – almost chuckling at it himself, and remembering how they used to laugh together.

"They help me breathe." He corrected – speaking to his children but not taking his eyes off Padme and her deliciously pleasant smile.

While Luke and Leia didn't give it much thought, his words left Padme ruminative, and her smile faded.

"I better. . .get started with dinner." She got up speedily, and out of his eyeline.

"Luke, Leia!" Padme called as she placed a salad bowl on the dining table. "Come and set the table."

They both groaned, not wanting to leave the couch or end their time with Vader.

"Maybe. . .your dad can help you set up." She suggested with a faint smile. Vader inhaled deeply, cherishing the fact that she referred to him as dad to the kids.

Padme and the twins finally took their seats with Vader pushing both the kids' chairs closer to the table.

"You're not gonna eat with us?" Leia asked as Vader headed to the door that led to his chamber. She hadn't really thought it through, she just wanted him to stick around.

His gaze traveled over the dining table with homemade food, to their three faces.

"I can't." He replied in a courteous manner before leaving.

Both Luke and Leia dug into their dinner as Padme sat there, abstracted, serious, lost in thought.

She swiftly stood up. "I'll be right back."

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind
I could feel you sneaking in
As if you were a mythical thing
Like you were a trophy or a champion ring
And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

Wait for the signal, and I'll meet you after dark
Show me the places where the others gave you scars

Vader's posture stiffened, stunned as Padme entered his chamber.

"What are you doing in here?" He blurted.

"I brought you food." She lifted the plate hesitantly after being met with an unenthusiastic greeting.

"Thanks." He muttered. "–just set it over there." She followed his finger pointing to the desk on the right side of her.

Placing down the meal, she turned back to him. She could feel the awkwardness and she knew he wanted her to leave – but she decided to weather the tension.

"How do you eat?" She quietly asked.

A rigid Vader took a second before he could answer. "Well. . .I get everything I need from this." He pointed at his suit. She could hear a slight tremor in his otherwise controlled voice. "And. . .in here," He now gestured to the chamber as a whole. "–where I'm not dependent on the suit."

Padme studied his suit, working out the mechanics in her head. "...Show me."

"No." He cleared his throat.

But she urged herself forward, carefully, as to not sneak up on him.

He watched her hands reach for him, and flinched the closer her fingers got to his mask.

He quickly stopped her, his metal hands encircled her wrists lightly, lowering her arms.

After some consideration, he swallowed a gulp and proceeded to remove his helmet himself.

As the helmet was lifted over his head, a shaky exhale left Padme's lips. Her eyes settled on his face – his real face.

She sucked in a nervous breath as her eyes explored his charred skin, getting to see the extent of the damage from the fire.

A tightness gripped her throat as an onrush of grief made her eyes sting with tears. Her body began to tremble, trying to identify him under the burns.

After a sequence of unsteady breaths emerged, she managed to loosen her constricted muscles that stilled her movement.

She quickly wiped away a tear before it could fall down her cheek, hurriedly taking her attention back to the food on the desk.

"Here." She dried her eyes, grabbing the plate. "Try this." She said, her voice cracking.

He didn't move a muscle for a second, hating every dreadful minute of this. But eventually he took the plate from her, albeit reluctantly.

"What do you think?" She asked once he tasted a bite. She kept her voice low, as though she'd irk him or scare him away with any sudden movement or sound.

"A bit salty." He casually grumbled.

She knew what he was doing – trying to pass off any discomfort with a snide remark or joke. The same way he used to nonchalantly gripe about his dislike of sand, using humor to diminish the pain behind what his words really meant – the dark emotions he wanted to cover up. He wanted to reduce the impact of an overwhelming trauma, minimizing how much pain he was really in because it scared him to admit. He had lost too much to have her dangle her warmth before him only to leave again.

But she didn't care. In this moment, she didn't care how indifferent he came across, or how offhanded his comment was. All she could think about was how overwhelmed she was – now that she heard him speak.

She heard the sound of his real voice. That distinctive voice. And she could recognize that soft tone with a rasp anywhere.

"I told you many times," He shrugged with an air of playfulness. "–easy on the salt."

She closed her eyes, chucking to herself with a shake of her head. She whined lightheartedly: "Shut up, Anakin."

Suddenly, silence befell the room once she let his former name slip. It just rolled off her tongue in a moment that felt like home. Like no time had passed since they were frolicking in the kitchen of her old apartment. It was like they had entered a time capsule.

Her eyes slowly raised back to him, and a smile graced her lips. There was another familiarity, staring back at her was his eyes. They were the same clear, cool blue eyes that she used to wake up to.

She saw him – really saw him beneath all the scars.

And he was overcome with emotion at the sight of her smile, getting to witness it with his own eyes. And hearing her sultry voice uttering his actual name felt like music to his ears. It was spoken with such affection, embodying the softness and admiration that would come from her when she used to call his name, in a way that made him feel forever revered.

Heat flooded his cheeks for the first time in a long time.

"It's. . .really good." He finally added, gesturing at the food. His voice gracious with appreciation. It had been quite a while since he received anything to eat other than bland dishes.

She smiled gently at him. "Well, if you want. . .there will be a meal – same time, everyday."

The more that you say, the less I know
Wherever you stray, I follow
I'm begging for you to take my hand
Wreck my plans, that's my man
You know that my train could take you home
Anywhere else is hollow
I'm begging for you to take my hand
Wreck my plans

That's my man

Willow - Taylor Swift