Padme had never felt so helpless. As she hung suspended in the air, she couldn't move, couldn't speak, but could only watch, listen, and wait. She had never expected this to happen, not like this, and not in front of Luke. She knew what Vader was thinking, how he wanted Luke to become closer to the dark side—and what better way than to threaten him with the life of his mother? That was all it was, she though, just a threat, one she had heard before, but as Padme hung in the air, her chest constricting, her back arching, slowly becoming unable to breathe, she really thought she might die. Many times Vader had frightened her, threatened her, punished her, but she never actually thought he could kill her. Her throat felt as though it was closing more and more, and she gasped for breath as though she was drowning.

Spots began to creep into her vision, and darkness began to take over. She fought to keep her focus and stay awake; she needed to know what happened to Luke, but her body was telling her otherwise—she couldn't take anymore.

Without warning, she took a gasp of air, and the weight lifted off her. She tumbled to the ground, her body sprawled in the dirt, and she lay there, dazed, and stared up at the sky. It took her a moment to realize that she was still alive. That Vader hadn't killed her. If he hadn't killed her though, then what…? Her heart pounded in her chest and reverberated throughout her body. With every ounce of strength she had, he turned her head to the right in order to find Luke. Surely he was okay, right? Surely Vader hadn't done anything so stupid as—suddenly, her world seemed to stop, everything suspended in place, and she could only stare.

If she had the strength to move, she would have. If she had the strength to scream, she would have. But she didn't. No, she just stared. Luke lay on the floor, still, yet rigid, every muscle taut, and his move hung open wide. Vader loomed over him, his hand outstretched, his eyes wild and dark with unrestricted anger.

"You're weak!" Vader yelled, and Padme shuddered. Her whole body began to tremble, with fear or sudden release, she didn't know. Vader's voice continued to thunder. "You couldn't even hurt me—not even for your own mother?" His voice sounded outraged, yet the words seemed strange to Padme. Hurt Vader? Hurt him for what, and why? "Even under the cruelest of circumstances, under the most consuming of pressures, you still can't attack with the dark side! Why? WHY?"

Luke's body jolted once and his back had a spasm. Padme let a tiny cry escape her lips. It should've been a scream, one to curdle the blood, but it only sounded like a whimper. She groaned, and had one last thought before she passed out, Why don't I even have the power to protect my own son?

The next morning she awoke. Her eyes didn't want to open, but remained glued shut. The light hurt her eyes, made them burn, and she rolled over in bed, unwilling to face the day. She had to get up, she knew, but the strength eluded her. Finally, she managed to find the will power, and she blinked open her eyes, scrunching her brow as she did so, uncertain and slightly afraid of what she would see.

As suspected, Vader was there. Why did he always seem to appear, to never leave her alone? She never had a moment's rest, not even when she wanted one the most. She knew why she continued fighting, why she remained the wife-prisoner here, but sometimes, she just wanted a break. She couldn't hide the moan that escaped her lips as she rolled onto her back and looked up at the metal ceiling.

Instantly, Vader's face was before hers, his yellow eyes searching hers. If an outsider glanced in on them, he might have suspected that Vader was a kind man, concerned over his wife, but Padme knew better. But oh, how she wished she didn't.

"How are you feeling?" Vader asked.

It was such an empty question, Padme wondered why he bothered asking her at all. "I feel like I got beaten up by a wampa."

Vader remained unmoved by Padme's poor attempt at a joke. "I never meant to hurt you."

Padme sighed and rubbed her palms over her eyes. "Do you even realize the things you say?"

"What? Don't you believe me?"

Padme open her eyes wide and glared at Vader. "Why in the world would I? Do you even know what you've put me through? How many times I've been subjected to your sadistic punishments? And now," Padme took a deep breath, "to subject my son—no, our son—to your petty power games? I've had enough, Vader."

"Padme, just listen."

"No. No, I don't think I have to listen. You almost kill me, and then you torture my son. You don't have the right to be listened to, especially by me,"

Vader's eyes turned to slits. "Remember who you're talking to, wife. I have the power here, the control, and you are not in a position to disobey me or questions what I do. I never intended to kill you, you know that."

Padme looked him in the eye. "Then what exactly did you want to teach him? I'm not sure he got the message."

Vader released a loud exhale. "I intended to teach Luke that if he wants something, then he'll have to fight for it. If he wants to do that, if he ever wants to be powerful and in command, then he must know when and how to attack. Yet he never has. Attacked first, I mean." Vader began pacing. "He's not docile though. He's just too…passive and calm." Abruptly, Vader stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Padme, his brow furrowed and his eyes digging into her skull. "Do you want to know what your precious little son did, Padme?"

Padme took a step back as he advanced on her. "Do you want to know what he did instead of attacking me, like he should have?" Vader rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "He… He sacrificed himself for you—he offered up his life in place of your own, for his own failing. How despicable... How Jedi-like of him. Just where did he learn that from, I wonder."

As Vader loomed before her, Padme's gaze shifted from his eyes and turned to the left. "Perhaps he's just not as intrinsically evil as you are."

Vader grabbed her by the collar and pulled her closer to him. His voice trembled as he said, "If it is anyone's fault for Luke's lacking, it is you, with your goody-mother routine. It makes me sick."

"Kill me, then," taunted Padme.

Vader shoved her away from him. "I've thought about it."

"And?"

Vader said nothing as his gaze burned a hole in the floor.

Padme scoffed. "You can't, can you? Even after all these years, you still can't kill me."

And Padme knew it was the truth when Vader shot lightning at her. But this she was used to. At least it wasn't Luke.

Thanks so much for your continued support! I know I've been gone for far too long, but all your reviews are keeping me going. =) I'll finish this bad boy, promise! As always, please review!

Love and Vader,