AN:
SooDarling: He could've... but considering that in canon Palpatine's words were "It seems in your anger you killed her" and then at the beginning of this story he informs Vader of her funeral, I don't think Vader would take his words as more than an assumption since everyone believed Padme was dead – that was her plan, and he couldn't sense her alive since her and Obi-Wan were in hiding. Now finding out she's alive, I don't think he cares about what Palpatine assumed. He could be mad that Palpatine accused him of being responsible for her death but given the information they had at the time, it wasn't exactly a reach :D
BoldenBeau: Hope you like the new chapter you've been waiting for :D And thank you SO much for your review on Wildest Dreams. It is so heartwarming to feel appreciated in such a way. I am so glad you liked it. Thank you for taking the time to write that to me XOXO
The Death Of A Dream - Part I
Would you tell me I was wrong?
Would you help me understand?
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To hear your voice again
Sometimes I wanna call you
But I know you won't be there
With eyes that so desperately wanted to shut and reopen to find this merely a dream, Padme felt an icy jolt pierce through her. Palpatine let himself in, urging her backwards. She was now stood in front of her children, rooted to the spot.
"What do you want?!" Her voice a high-pitched creaky sound, petrification projecting out. Luke and Leia absorbed the stress of their mother, their eyes never leaving the cloaked figure, afraid of what would happen should their attention be diverted. Because the sight was the stuff of nightmares, a thousand scars conjoined to form one pale, hardened face. And the eyes, the colour of yellow amber drawing you in, and once your fear is within their grasp, you fall into the dark abyss.
"To negotiate." Palpatine suggested. That effortless, formidable stroll bringing him closer to where she stood.
Padme took one more step back, aiming to be the protective barrier separating the Emperor from her children, blocking his path. She became more aware of the flow of breaths that left her lips, knowing how susceptible her children would be to rigid body language, her emotional temperature, and a screaming distress.
"Since when?" Padme did her best to find her centre, stabilizing on the outside, shaking on the inside, keeping her voice low and her tone even.
"It's what Naboolians do best." That scraping, nails-on-a-chalkboard voice was impaling, even with an upbeat pitch. "Use their words."
"Words are our greatest weapons." Padme reminded. She was discreet, vague, calling his bluff in a way, knowing full well Palpatine was never one to rely on negotiation.
"Unless you have a weapon." He said with a sneer.
He was weaponizing his words already. His eyes cover her like a dark cloud shading her face, letting her know he's defeated her before, vividly, politically, devastatingly. He would not give her the gift of thinking she posed any sort of threat – not this time.
But that didn't scare her. What did scare her was watching his eyes swiftly leave her and land on her son.
"The force is strong with him." He rasped slowly, coating every word with greed, stretching each syllable callously. He was vandalistic with his hunger for power, and almost gleeful, tickled by the powerful surge he felt through the force, linking him to the boy.
Padme's heart took a tumble as Palpatine's malevolent smirk aimed at her kids.
As a tidal wave of despair crashed into them, Padme gathered her children toward her, shielding them as they quivered behind her.
"Luke, Leia," She rushed with a whisper. "Go to your room."
"That won't be necessary." Palpatine interjected.
Padme clutched onto her children tighter and glared at him deliberately. "Leave them out of this."
"Why do you think they're here?" Palpatine's open palm stretched out, inviting her to take a guess. "Why do you think Lord Vader is training them?"
Padme willed her lips to stop trembling as she pondered that thought with fluctuating doubt. "He wouldn't..."
"No?" The Emperor's eyes crinkled at the sides, enjoying her uncertainty.
"He promised he wouldn't hurt them."
"And he won't as long as you comply."
"...How?" She held her head up – though it was heavy, needing an excessive amount of effort to fabricate confidence in this moment.
"Leave." He defined. "And let your son fulfill his destiny."
He watched as her lips were thinning, and her flame-throwing looks targeted him.
"You really think I'm gonna hand my children off to you?!"
"You won't have a choice. Do as I say or... Lord Vader will take care of you."
"Your influence on him is not as strong as you think!"
Palpatine chuckled at that, resuming another glorious, painful-to-look-at, slow gait. His circular movements freezing everyone else in the room.
"You're right about that... Now that I think of it, I may have had an influence on him turning on the Jedi but. . .I never convinced him to turn on you... He did that of his own accord."
He took a final step once he and the senator were toe to toe. "And the children's safety. . .that'll be his motivation."
"Haven't you taken enough?" She snapped.
But she received a potent, dominant exhale for a reply.
He took another suffocating step closer. "Step aside, senator."
"No!" She bellowed, fiercely holding onto her children.
"So be it." Palpatine raised his arms. His ruthless, veiny fingers pinpointing its prey.
"Wanna untie me?" Obi-Wan casually inserted, rattling the handcuffs that restricted his arms. "Settle this man to. . .machine."
Vader's head raised, loftily. There was something rakish about his mannerisms, like a cat who has cornered the mouse, knowing its victory is irrefutable.
But he wasn't expressing jubilance or triumph under the mask, he was spurred on by his vengeance, by the shallowest depths of human emotion. And Obi-Wan's profound calmness was far too provocative.
He hissed, "You'd risk your life to take my family away from me?"
Obi-Wan held Vader's vitriolic stare, and didn't blink, "They're my family too."
"Your days of playing house with my wife and kids are over!" Vader's words dripping with jealousy, hatred.
But Obi-Wan refused to rise to it, seeing beyond the words, the tone of voice. He saw the thinly veiled emotions clawing their way through. Really, Vader was his own prisoner.
"That's it..." Obi-Wan shook his head, artfully. "It's just another possession to you. You can't see beyond yourself. Now I know I made mistakes with you. . .and the Jedi, we failed immeasurably... But at least we fought for something bigger than us. You used to fight alongside us. You saw every star in the galaxy––that was your dream. Now you only see yourself. The dark side has truly blinded you."
"Well if it bothers you that much, you should've killed me when you had the chance."
It was hard for Vader to remember what he used to dream of – wanting to free those who were enslaved, fighting for community, stabilizing society. Now all that remained by his side was the force, his belief in its spirituality, its effect, even if he more often than not misused it.
Anakin used to admire how the Jedi philosophy honoured the force, the days when no one would think to abuse it with darkness, egocentrism – a time when Jedi and force-users strived to be healthy to avoid corrupting it. It was a shame for them to become misguided by politics, turning to a corrupt government for leadership, rather than allowing the higher power they claimed to believe in religiously to guide them. All the material found on planets, the superficialities, the crude matter, all were insignificant compared to the force.
It is easy, almost too easy, to give into temporary solutions and satisfactions, but you soon learn that it is worthwhile to sacrifice short-term happiness. Taking the easy way out will always lead to long-term suffering. Vader himself was the perfect example of how the health of the individual represents the overall health of society. We are only as strong as our weakest link. Once a young man, vibrant, and determined to free the controlled began to control the free. His journey mirroring the galaxy – from egalitarian to authoritarian.
Obi-Wan could sense Vader's conflict through the force. He was mindful of their respective faults. Anakin's air of superiority, that Vader was so resolutely displaying right now, it frustrated Obi-Wan back then. And Obi-Wan's criticisms made Anakin feel unloved and unappreciated. Both men felt undermined by the other but Anakin had more to prove. He would not be held back any longer, not by slavers, age, a lack of power, lack of strength, the Jedi, or anything else that shrunk his confidence. He vowed to never feel helpless again. He's a fixer after all, taking control.
Rivaled like immature brothers, instead of growing like partners – master and apprentice.
Devotion and respect only came with age, evolving, working as a team.
Before that, there was jealousy, competition... and no parental figure to remind them:
Purpose over power. Not power over purpose.
Obi-Wan reminded himself of his purpose as he continued to observe the man in the black suit, trying to read through the subtleties of Vader's movements, as the Sith Lord mindlessly walked himself in circles, frigid tremors between them.
"Your talent with the force came naturally to you. You didn't have to work as hard as the others. You outgrew my training, I didn't know how to help you. For you, it was instinctual. And that made you arrogant. You started believing you could take anything you wanted – and it would come to you. You always succeeded, so then. . .patience was never your friend. You deprived yourself of the wisdom that comes with patience, Darth."
"I didn't need patience. I needed your support." Vader seethed through gritted teeth, tired of Obi-Wan's sanctimonious talk, of him always trying to deny the darkness, the madness within Anakin that he attempted to run from – the traits Vader embraced, although not without leaving the good behind.
There is no light if you can't cast a shadow. So how is one substantial, how is one whole without a dark side? Anakin always knew he didn't feel like a whole person, until Padme made him feel like one.
It quietened Obi-Wan to hear Vader recall Anakin's feelings. He claimed Anakin was gone yet he was triggered by the same pain, and longing.
"I tried." Obi-Wan's honesty was evident and heartfelt. "I really tried. But you don't make it easy to support you. You make it very difficult."
"Well, it's not your problem anymore."
"And I'm done feeling guilty." A self-assured Obi-Wan hit back. "At some point, your actions are your responsibility."
Obi-Wan had made peace with the calamity, the harm and hurt inflicted. Patience saved him. If there's anything he and Yoda learned from the past it's that wisdom is found in the wreckage of war, never before.
"My responsibilities..." Vader disparaged the words, making a mockery of them. "...I carried you all. I put in the work. I built an Empire!"
"It's not your purpose." Obi-Wan stated calmly, matter-of-factly.
"How would you know?!" Vader spat, feeling challenged, taking Obi-Wan's confidence as a personal insult hurled at him.
"You're not happy." Obi-Wan discerned, and the restlessness of Vader's footsteps was hijacked by his sudden immobility. "You had nothing, and then suddenly you were everything to everyone. And the Emperor convinced – no, you convinced yourself that you were only significant if you had power."
Vader remembered a time of unpolluted curiosity and innocence, when Anakin went looking for answers that Palpatine was happy to feed him. Looking back it was clear that Palpatine's intentions were designed to feed his own ambition but Vader knew deep down that Anakin was going to be receptive no matter what – because he was willing to take the good with the bad – and he was willing to overlook it all for a father figure.
Despite Palpatine's manipulations, the wisdom he imparted did help according to Anakin. Palpatine offered healing for a trauma the Jedi couldn't understand. And Anakin felt rooted for, finally, so the sincerity was never questioned, nor was the fact that he was merely being fed a quick fix to his problems. By the time the Jedi recognized how deep-seated Anakin's issues were, they were thrust into war.
"I thought about this day." Vader reflected on his thirst for power, how he got it, and wanting to hold it over Obi-Wan. "–about how I'd make you suffer. A day when my power is impervious to your strategies. I was going to torture you."
"This is torture enough." Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at Vader's refusal to let light penetrate through, even though he was so desperately missing it.
"Not even close. I wanted you and everyone to pay, as I have!" Vader's voice, the sound of roaring crowds coming from one entity, his ego loud and clear. He was volcanic, erupting violently at the thought of seeking justice with every fibre of his being.
But he paused, knowing that after the eruption there is only emptiness. Just like with the Tusken Raiders, the "win" is temporary, it didn't bring his mother back, it didn't dilute the pain. The "win" was a lie. Layers of himself dissolve with each kill until he is transparent, and there's nothing left to shield your vulnerability – unless you're willing to kill that part of you or, at least, numb yourself well enough to erase the heartache.
The burning desire of revenge is fleeting. It disappears and leaves you hollow once you feed it. The more you feed it, the emptier you are – as though you are giving pieces of yourself away unknowingly.
So why would this "win", the act of defeating Obi-Wan like it was a trophy he wanted to hang on the mantel, why would it feel any different?
That certainty that once drove him was diminishing now that his family reminded him he's not entirely gone. It was easier to drown in darkness and feel numb to the light when you think there's no pieces of you out there.
"But now that you're here, I don't care if you live or die." Vader's confession even surprised himself. He no longer felt that there was pleasure to be gained in defeating him, as he once told Leia. She was more important than revenge. And right now revenge didn't seem worthwhile at all. The dark shroud was fading, with peace underneath.
He pictured his children's animated faces. They were ludic, electric, lost in innocent wonderment, still unpolluted by reality's harshness. An innocence that he found himself protective of.
He felt love seeping through. He wouldn't even be having this conversation a year ago. Not until his children came along. The twins' little eyes were an ocean of compassion and love, recklessly holding onto hopefulness. Maybe ignorance was bliss. There was something admirable about their belief in the good and all that is light – they were strong, and determined to stay joyful, giving, vulnerable and open to love – just like their mother.
"But my kids do... " Vader admitted reluctantly. "They love you."
Compassion is essential to a Jedi's life...
And Vader realized he was still a man, alive (and maybe even... still a Jedi in some way) A man searching for a soul that he lost. And he still wanted it, needed it. The pieces revitalized through his children.
And on that note, Vader was now so viscerally linked to his flesh and blood that he felt a disturbance in the force.
His kids... his kids were in danger.
I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself
By hurting you
Christina Aguilera - Hurt