Author's Note: Just wanted to make sure everyone knew this is an AU.

Thanks again to everyone who has been reading and reveiwing, again, please keep up the constructive reviews! I really appreciate them.

Disclaimer: The Star Wars Universe was created and is owned by George Lucas, this is just my imagination at work, based on the universe he has created. If this story is similar to another, it's pure coincidence.

Note: Thoughts are in italics.

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"Come with me," Darth Vader said, pulling Padmé down the cold, gray hallway.

"I can walk all by myself, thank you very much," she muttered under her breath, not wanting to upset him again. Her wrists still hurt and were bright red, and that was enough of a reminder. She could only wonder what he meant would happen to her family and herself if she did not join the Empire.

He stopped at a door indentical to all the rest, pushing her inside. A room that resembled a salon was inside, full of young women that were all dressed quite similar. Waving one of them over, Darth Vader put his hands on Padmé's shoulders, pushing Padmé in front of him.

"Arela', clean her up. Do what you need with her. I want her back with me in three hours for dinner," Vader said, quickly leaving the room. Padmé almost wanted to call out for him, but thought twice about that. He was treating her like some lowly speck, though that was basically what she was, now; just some commoner from Naboo. But Anakin, her love, would have never treated her like that. He's not Anakin. I can't forget that.

Arela', a young Twi'lek girl, began to wash the ex-Senator's long, curly, dark locks, not saying a word as she did so. Padmé had a feeling these girls were more slaves than hairdressers.

"Your name is Arela'?" she asked, trying to start some kind of conversation. The young girl only nodded in response, not helping Padmé out in any way. "That's a pretty name," she continued, just wanting to get something out of her.

"Thank you," Arela' whispered as if she was not even allowed to speak. Sighing and holding her wet hair in a fluffy towel, Padmé and her quiet hairdresser walked over to a vanity equipped with lots of hair products, tools and makeup. "Your hair is naturally curly?" the cool, green-skinned Twi'lek asked, making even a bit of conversation.

"Yes, I want to leave it down and curly, that's how Anakin likes - or liked - it."

"Okay," Arela' whispered again, combing through Padmé's long hair and spraying in some sort of product. The conversation between the two was dead for quite awhile, except for when Arela' asked a question. After finishing her hair and then applying makeup, another girl - this time a female human with strawberry blonde hair - came and took the ex-Senator away.

"What's your name?" Padmé asked as she was led to a large room full of beautiful dresses and robes.

"Gira," she mumbled, her head hanging low.

"I like that name," Padmé replied as she stood amazed at the amount of clothing hanging before her. "Wow, this is going to be hard to choose."

"You don't need to choose," Gira replied, holding up a raven-black dress; similar to the dress she wore when Anakin revealed his undying love for her. "Lord Vader chose this for you."

"Oh."

Though a beautiful dress, the dark, solid color was nothing special compared to the vibrant colors and fabrics of the other garments. Handing the dress to Padmé, Gira walked out of the room giving her room and privacy to change. Amazingly, it had already been close to three hours since Vader dumped her here to be "cleaned up". She didn't want to be late for him.

- - - -

Being led down the hallway to Lord Vader's room, Padmé never thought she would feel so nervous and excited about this dreaded moment. Having no idea what his plans for her tonight were worried her. What about when I tell him I will not support the Empire? What will he do then?

It seemed to be forever until they reached the door to his room. But she needed the time to think about what to do.

"Go on in," the stormtrooper commanded as the door slid open, an apparently empty room before her. Thanking her escorts, which seemed to surprise them, she walked into the room, hoisting her trumpet skirt so she would not step on it. It had a sheer, satin overlay with a sort of grayish tint to it. It looked beautiful over the simple fabric of her formal skirt. The black corset was so tight, she could hardly breathe - not like that would really change how she would already feel during dinner. Her long, brunette curls hung simply on her shoulders, a few strands being held back with a gray ribbon made of the same delicate material.

Vader came around the corner, wearing just black pants, a black undershirt, and a black cloak. His brown belt held his lightsaber and whatever was inside the side pocket. The black boots sounded strong and sturdy on the floor, and this time he was not wearing gloves. A few scars could be seen on his hands, but nothing major. Nothing that would make him need to wear black gloves as often as he did. He did not smile, nor did he frown; he did not seem angry or happy. His mood didn't even change when he looked Padmé up and down.

Holding out his hand, he led her to a table set for two, with a single candle lit in the middle. After taking her seat, he sat down across from her, still not even having said a word to her. Bantha steak and some vegetables were what they were served, and Vader began eating before she even was given a plate. Halfway through the dinner and not even a word had been spoken between the two.

"When will I be going home?" Padmé asked, breaking the ice between them. The only response she got was "a look" and nothing more. Minutes passed as he still said nothing, leaving it up to her once again. "Are you okay?"

"What is your decision?" he asked, not answering her two questions; not even taking a moment to stop eating as he waited for a response.

"I told you already," she muttered softly, looking him straight in his sapphire blue eyes. "I will not join you. You know that."

"Why not?"

Padmé hesitated, unsure of what exactly to say in response. "I do not want to be part of a dictatorship ruled by a slimey, powerhungry man. I told you that."

"I also told you not to speak of the Emperor like that ever again," he reminded her, leaning back in his chair, looking straight at her. "But if you won't join him, then why won't you join me?" He's good. He's really good. He knows exactly when to use his charm. "I know how you feel about me."

"No, you don't know. All you know is how I feel about Anakin. You are nothing like him. The only thing you have in common with that wonderful man is your looks, but it stops there. You aren't half the man he is."

"Are you attracted to Anakin, physically?" Darth Vader asked, Padmé blushing and nodding in answer to him. Standing up, he held his hand out to her as he called the maid in to clear the table. Reluctantly, she took his hand as he led her to the same living room they fought in only hours ago. Sitting down on the couch, he pulled her down next to him, close to him. "Then I know you are attracted to me," he whispered to her, his hand on her leg.

"Your charm cannot work on me," Padmé lied, looking down at her lap. She turned towards him. His eyes sparkled though he did not smile. He looked like her Anakin, once again.

"It already has."