Um... hi? It's been a while. A long, long while. All I can say is, I graduated college and moved to South Korea (for a time). Life is busy! As you grow up, there is less and less time to write. However, I do want to finish this story. Actually, all my unfinished stories on here. I hope some of my readers are still there, or maybe some new readers will jump on board. Anyway, my deepest apologies, and I hope you understand! So, without further ado, chapter 3!

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Star Wars. If you think I do... you might want to see a doctor. ;)

Chapter 3

The boulder broke apart into a thousand pieces, where they hovered in the air, as if uncertain of what to do next, of what a sliver of rock was meant to do. As if realizing they did not enjoy being apart, the pieces crammed back together to recreate the boulder. Yet still, the particles of rock were indecisive. They broke apart again.

Vader sat in the yard, his arm stretched out in front of him, clenching and unclenching his fist. He wasn't thinking of anything. He stared at the boulder in front of him, watching it break apart and reform, but he was not thinking about that either. Where was his mind? On everything and nothing. On the universe, on his rule, on being a Sith, on Luke, on… Padme. The rock shattered and the pieces fell, littering the floor.

Their current location was Corellia, in a mountain town called Bela Vistal. The people here were complacent, boring, if anything, but the mountains were peaceful and serene. Quietness shrouded them, and Vader believed he needed some quiet. His head pounded with confusion, but he was a Sith Lord—confusion equaled weakness. He brought in his outstretched arm and he made a fist by his side, trying to harness his anger. Anger, hatred, greed—wasn't that what led to power? Vader felt the dark side swirling within him, and he felt the surge of power through his veins, but why was there a knot in his stomach? Why was his mind a bed of tumult?

Meditation.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Footsteps sounded from behind and the leaves underfoot rustled. "Father, how may I assist you?"

Vader exhaled as he flicked open his gold flecked eyes. He looked over his shoulder and saw Luke bended down on one knee behind him. The boy was now 8 years old, a prime apprentice and obedient student. He had learned the ways of the force now, and the dark side was a dark cloud within him, strong and furious, like a hurricane storm that raged and would not cease. For a split second, Vader wondered how this child's life might have been different if the Jedi still existed and if he and Padme had still lived peacefully together.

Still, he had not called for the child today. He had left explicit instructions to be left alone. His eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"What do you think you're—"

"Luke!" Footsteps crunched on twigs and rocks as Padme came flying into sight. "Luke, I told you not to bother your father today." She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him to his feet. "Come, let's return to town."

She was about to turn and take him away, but Vader stopped them. "No, Padme. The boy came all this way. I'm curious as to why. What did you think you could accomplish, Luke?"

The boy pushed his shoulders back to make him seem taller or maybe older. He had light brown hair, cut short and neat around his face. He wore a linen tunic and pants, all black, and had lightning blue eyes. As Vader looked at him, he suddenly felt a memory emerge, of when he was Luke's age. An innocent child, a podracer, a slave… Vader shook his head. The past was the past. That child no longer existed. That naïve, foolish, weak boy vanished and died a long time ago.

"I wished to continue my training in order to help Vader ease his mind," Luke said.

Training, wondered Vader. That could help, he supposed. A smirk tugged at one side of his mouth. "All right, Luke. Training it is. Have you practiced what I taught you before?"

Luke shuffled his feet and nodded eagerly. If that was one good thing about Luke, he had a taste for learning and improving his skills. He loved nothing more than to please his father. "Yes, father, the man you gave me has proved most useful for practicing."

"Good." Vader had found a local village man and given him to Luke so that he could practice his force techniques. Nothing proved so useful as a real-life test subject. The current lesson was on throat constriction. An easy yet effective measure. "Show me. Now." He nodded toward Padme. "You may practice on your mother."

Padme's eyes widens as did Luke's. The boy didn't move, but stood frozen in place. Vader watched the argument going on behind the boy's eyes. Although the boy might believe himself to be Sith, he loved his mother. Too much. The boy needed more hatred, more strength, if he was ever going to become a Sith Lord.

"Vader," Padme said. "That is too much. I won't allow it."

Vader raised his brows at that. "Won't allow it?" He rose from his seat and took slow steps toward her. "And just how do you aim to stop me?"

She raised her chin defiantly. "No matter what you might say or believe, you still love me."

Vader stopped where he was. He took in Padme before him. She wore a fresh silk garment, peach colored with a gold braid that twisted around her shoulder down to her abdomen. Her long, brown hair was done up in a braid on top of her head. She looked radiant, healthier than she had been in a long time. His heart thumped in his chest. He swallowed dryly, refusing to give in to this feeling. He stretched out his neck and turned his head ot the side. "Love? Siths know nothing of love. It is about time Luke learned that too. To let go of his soft feelings and embrace the harsh reality."

Yet Padme did not back down. "You know nothing of love?" She took a few steps toward him, closing the gap. "Don't lie, Vader."

Then she reached out and kissed him.