XI
The Dark Lord sat behind his great desk holding the wrinkled slip of parchment in his clenched fist. The words were not, could not be true. He had seen her die. He had felt it. There was no way she could have been saved, no way her child could have survived! Angrily he thrust the missive into the roaring fire before him. Vader must not learn the truth. The truth would destroy everything
He was in the meadow again. A happy, serene place from a time long since forgotten. She was there. His beautiful bride. She stood atop one the emerald hills, her ebony hair blowing softly in the breeze, her golden dress shimmering in the sunlight. "Anakin!" She called to him using his true name, it made his heart race. She smiled and began to run down the hill toward him. He grabbed her waist and spun her in the air until they both fell softly back onto the grass. They rolled toward each other as she softly caressed his unmarred face. "Do not be afraid, Annie. No matter what happens, know that I am with you." She kissed him softly before she disintegrated into a mass of white petals that blew away on the gentle breeze.
Vader pulled himself from the dream, his heart aching. Her words, a haunting echo, in the back of his mind.